The 91st Annual Hunger Games
by Zulera301
Summary: Wes and Ava were familiar with stories of siblings getting reaped in back-to-back Hunger Games, but they never expected to both get reaped the same year. Faced with this harsh reality, the brother-sister pair sets off to prepare to fight for their survival, the ever-present dilemma of who lives and who dies still looming overhead. After all, there can only be one victor... right?
1. Chapter 1: The Reaping

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **_The 91st Annual Hunger Games just another Hunger Games like all the others, as if the 2nd rebellion had never happened. I wanted to explore a handful of different ideas about situations or circumstances that could happen in or surrounding the 'Games, and so this is one of the results. Enjoy._

_(Updates every 3 days or so. Reviews, Feedback, Compliments, or [Constructive] Criticism are both welcomed and encouraged.)  
_

**PART I: BROTHER AND SISTER  
**

**CHAPTER 1: The Reapings  
**

As had been the custom for the last 90 years, every boy and girl between the ages of 12 and 18 was soon to be lined up outside of the district's Justice Building for one simple but terrible purpose. It was that time of year again where two of them-a boy and a girl, would be sent to their deaths. Even in the event that one of them was the victor, that still meant that one of them was not going to return.

Wes was slightly concerned about it like most children from District 12 were. Many of them took out so much tesserae that it stacked up heavily against them as they grew older. At 17, he was sure his name was in there numerous times. On the other hand, it was not like his plight was unique, and so with each kid having their name in numerous times, perhaps everyone's chances were more or less the same.

He and his sister Ava were getting cleaned up by their mother, who was finishing by combing their messy black hair to make her children look somewhat presentable for the 'games. Their father had succumbed to disease about a decade before. Healthcare in the district was not exactly stellar after all.

"Wes, watch over your sister." Their mother pleaded as she looked her dressed-up children over one last time. Ava shook her head.

"Mom, I'm 15. It's not like I'm a little baby. Don't worry—I'll come back from this Reaping alive and in one piece—I promise it."

"I can still at least walk with you to the Reaping, right, Ava?" Wes chuckled, offering his hand. The two dark-skinned siblings were rather close, and were not afraid to hold hands—their appearances were so similar that it was easy to tell they were related. They only parted ways when Wes went to join the boys and Ava went to join the girls.

"I'd say something about jinxing it, but well… that'd jinx it." He gave his sister another hug. "Love ya, Ava. May the odds be ever in your favor."

After the potential tributes were all rounded up, they watched the usual film from the Capitol stating the origins of the Hunger Games and why they went on. They all knew this drill. During this time, a tanned young adult in baggy clothes with long, flowing brown hair stepped up onto the stage, seating himself next to the mayor and a few other officials from the Capitol. Wes recognized him as Vigo—a boy who had won the games a decade or so ago. Next to him was a girl in her 30s who had won the games prior to Vigo. Her name escaped Wes at the time, but she might be accompanying the tributes to the Capitol. Technically only one mentor was ever obligated to go, and it was usually the most recent one.

Shortly after the film concluded, a pale woman with dark, spiky blue hair and red eyes strode onto the stage, her frilly knee-length skirts bouncing with each step—easily another Capitol citizen—Junichi Thatch; escort for the District 12 tributes. She was not as bad as most Capitol people came off. She was not too garish with her appearance (the hair color threw him off a bit though), and seemed to be down-to-earth a bit. Wes had also heard that she had a rather nice sense of humor.

"Welcome, welcome, welcome!" she beamed, going into a miniature speech before cutting right to the point. "And now it is time to choose our tributes for the 91st Annual Hunger Games… and as is the custom—ladies first,"

She stepped over to one of the large glass spheres that held girl's names, running her hand through it a bit to mix it up—otherwise the kids whose names were at the bottom would remain there, which meant the first ones to register that year would have an edge against their later-registering brethren. A moment later she unfolded a slip of paper, reading the name on the front.

"_Aveline Togisala!"_

Wes' heart stopped for a moment, and he turned towards her sister, who with a shrug and a very slouched walk, began to slowly trudge her way up to the stage. Junichi put her hand on the girl's shoulder almost reassuringly, before stepping over to the bowl with the boys' names.

"And now for the boys…" she dipped her hand into the bowl, repeating the same motions as she had for the girls before fishing out a name from the edge of the bowl. She opened it up and read it aloud.

"_Wesley Togisala!"_

Wes was not the only one who gasped. There were others in the crowd, including Vigo, who did so. Sure people had heard of siblings getting reaped in consecutive years (there were still stories about the brother and sister from District 1 who had won the 63rd and 64th Hunger Games back to back), but for siblings to be reaped in the same year? That was any parent's nightmare, because that was a positive assurance of at least one loss—often two in the outer districts.

Either way, he joined his sister on the stage. When Junichi saw him, her face dropped briefly before she forced a smile which was surely just part of Capitol protocol. Unrelated families with identical surnames existed, but it was far too obvious that Wes and Ava were related, and it hurt even the escort to know this. Still, the show had to go on.

"Ladies and Gentlemen..." Junichi cleared her throat for a moment, "your tributes from District 12 for the 91st Annual Hunger Games: Wesley and Aveline Togisala!"

Everyone, instead of clapping, raised three fingers to their lips before raising them. Even Junichi responded with this gesture. It was not so much a symbol of any type of rebellion as much as a gesture of respect for those that would not likely return. It didn't take a genius to realize that District 12 tributes were not exactly known for their vast pool of victors, though in recent years they had gained a few.

There was a moment of silence as the other families began to disperse while Wes and Ava were shunted into the large Justice Building. Vigo and that other girl whose name Wes still could not remember (he thought it started with a K, but he couldn't be sure) were speaking for a moment, before Vigo followed them inside, probably to prepare to leave. It seemed he was going alone this year.

Wes soon saw his sister and mother here—normally there were two families present, but since both tributes were form the same family, that was obviously unnecessary. Unsurprisingly, the older woman was weeping, motioning for her children to give her one last hug, which she did without hesitation, throwing her bracelet-covered arms around them. They had about 5 minutes anyways.

"I know what you're going to say, mom." Wes spoke up quietly, "Ava and I are going to be in this till the bitter end. I know we can't both come home… but you'll at least see one of us again."  
"I don't want to see one of you again!" she complained, "I want to see both of my babies."

Wesley sighed. "It's not like this was our choice." He reminded her.

"I made a promise, mom," Aveline spoke up, "I'm bringing one of us home. You'll get to see your son again." She turned to Wes, looking him right in the eye.

"You deserve it more than me." she insisted, "Dad deserves to see his son grow up. Besides… you've got much more potential and odds of winning than I do. Don't waste your energy trying to save me."  
"You know your skills as well as I do," Wes argued, "Don't pretend you're helpless."  
"I'm not," Aveline shook her head, and then sighed, turning back to her mother.

"I would give anything for something to happen right now—anything." Mrs. Togisala shook her head, "I want to be anywhere but here, and want anything but this to happen. This is a fate worse than death."  
"Naisha, no." Wes' expression tightened. When he referred to his own mother by her given name, it meant that he was turning as serious as he could be. "Don't say that. One of us is going to come home."  
Naisha sighed for a moment before taking two bracelets from her hands and putting them on her children's' arms. "Take these then," she uttered shakily. Wes' bracelet was a dark auburn color and was adorned with little suns, while Ava's was indigo and adorned with little moons.

"What are these for?" Ava tilted her head.

"Tribute tokens," Mrs. Togisala answered, "a reminder from your mother."

This seemed to be a good enough answer for both Wes and Ava. No sooner had they taken the bracelets when it came time for them to say their final goodbyes. Peacekeepers might not have been terribly strict in District 12, but they were strict enough about the schedule and so with one last goodbye hug from both Wes and Ava, they headed for the car that would take them to the train station, which in turn would mark the beginning of the end of their lives.


	2. Chapter 2: Sibling Tributes

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**_ Anyone who thinks that Wes, Ava, Jun, and Vigo are imitations/replacements for Peeta, Katniss, Effie, or Haymitch, I can assure you right now that this is not the case. Yes, it's about a pair of District 12 tributes with a female escort and a male mentor, but that's about where the similarities end. Enjoy._

**CHAPTER 2: Sibling Tributes  
**

Cars were rare in a country where there were high speed trains and hovercrafts, but nonetheless, there were a few, but these were usually just used to shunt tributes from the justice building to the train station. They were escorted by Peacekeepers, for it was not unheard of for some of the more impoverished tributes to try and make a run for it. It never ended well for them—ever.

Usually this was the part of the trip where the tributes would at least give their names to each other, but Wes and Ava knew each other for their entire lives, and so it was unnecessary. Instead, they both sat in reserved silence, anticipating what was surely coming ahead of them.

Soon they were on the train, and as they sat down, they finally got to meet that long-haired mentor properly this time. He was sitting at a table, running a pencil in broad strokes over a blank piece of paper. He looked up, nodding slightly as if to acknowledge them before continuing his sketching.

"So…" Wes spoke up after a moment or two, "you're our mentor then?"  
"mm." Vigo nodded affirmatively. For a moment Wes opened his mouth to say something, but instead decided to watch and see what Vigo was sketching. Surely Junichi was around as well to maybe spice things up or to get Vigo to pay attention to the tributes that he was now supposed to be training.

Ava seemed transfixed by the sketch as well.

Vigo's image soon proved to be graphic. It depicted a girl with an 8 on her shoulders and a wicked looking blade in her arm, appearing as if she had just landed from a flip, given the lines coming from his body and the blade for effect. The victim, a boy with a number 1 on his arm, had a string of blood coming from his right arm and shoulder, as if it had just been cut right off seconds ago, which is exactly what the picture was depicting.

"Scenes from your games," Wes tilted his head curiously, and this time Vigo stopped to look up.

"Aye," he nodded. His voice was a lot gentler than one would think it should be. "Some things stick with you for life, for better or for worse."  
"I know the feeling," Wes agreed, "well, sort of. I guess I should say I feel for you."  
"There are plenty of things about me you will never understand even if you emerge as the victor of the 91st Hunger Games." Vigo warned, "Although there are already things that I will not understand that you have to deal with. I did not have to kill my sister to come home."

Ava looked up. "He's not going to have to." She chipped in, "There are other ways to play the Capitol's game without us being forced to fight each other."

"Don't listen to her too much," Wes whispered to Vigo, "I'll go more into it later."

"Well then," Vigo pit his hands together and turned from Ava to Wes. "You want me to teach you? Tell me what you wish to learn."

"Everything," Wes instantly replied

"Where should I start then?" Vigo immediately retorted. He was clearly a very detail-oriented man, and Wes was beginning to catch onto this.

"How did you win again," he asked.

"I paid attention to everything." Vigo expounded, "Of course, your results may vary, based on your own thinking skills, the arena, and the other tributes, obviously, but there is your answer."  
"So what did you pay attention to?" Ava spoke up, "obviously some things are more important than others, yes?"  
"I would hope so," a soft but cheerful voice interrupted, stepping in and sitting down at the corner of the table. It was Junichi, cracking a joke. "I do not think Vigo here won by painting pictures of daisies."

Ava actually chuckled, which in turn made Wes follow suit.

Vigo cracked a smile. "Very funny, Jun," he quipped, "I won by paying attention to the sounds around me, and to the messages my body was telling me. I ate only when I knew I needed food, and kept myself hydrated semi-regularly to keep myself functioning normally. We're familiar with starvation, but when you're truly deprived of food, and especially water, it drives some kids mad."

"So food and water are obviously important then," Wes nodded, "did you have any alliances?"

"My district partner was one" Vigo clarified, "obviously since you two are brother and sister, I figure you're sticking together" He could tell that they were on very good terms with each other.

"Did you have anyone else?" Wes asked, hoping for an idea of what kinds of people were willing to side with District 12 in these games.

"The tributes from District 11 were our friends, even if we were not in a formal alliance with them. Our only other actual ally though was a boy from District 5. He died shortly after my district partner did. By that point there were only five of us left."  
He smiled approvingly at the two siblings in front of him that, while calm with their expressions, revealed with their eyes that they were clinging onto his every word.

"You want to hear the whole story then, I take it?" he looked them in the eyes, and without a word, both Wes and Ava nodded.

"Well then…" he took a drink, also grabbing some food, "sit back, get comfortable, and help yourself to some food. We've got a long ride to the Capitol anyways."  
He proceeded to start at the beginning from the moment he and 23 other children were raised from their pedestals to find themselves in the ruins of some desert city, with crumbling stone structures in every direction, surrounded by a backdrop of cliffs that likely served as the natural boundaries of the arena. One of the greatest oddities was that the tributes were all barefooted, which actually gave the outlying districts a rather prominent little advantage in the opening seconds. The hot, rocky ground was harsh on the feet, although tributes from the outlying districts, who often went barefoot in their own lines of work, fared just fine and many of them did not even grab some of the numerous boots that sat in the cornucopia.

"The kids from District 11 took off with two backpacks before the careers could even reach them. '10, '11, and '12 all survived the bloodbath that day, thanks to our lack of shoes." He chuckled at the irony. Only one of the careers had died on the first day—the girl from District 1.

Vigo continued to describe his experiences, noting that there had to be water sources somewhere around there. All cities, no matter how old, were built near some sort of water source.

"We found numerous dry lakebeds and riverbeds, many of which were nice and flat. The sand was a lot more lenient on our feet than the sharp, jagged rocks. It was surprisingly not a very hot desert, but there was no water to be found.  
Nightfall came, and the clear night suddenly and quickly clouded up, and then… rain. We managed to fill our bottles, but the next morning when we checked to see if any of the lakes or rivers had filled, we just found damp ground. There were 14 of us left at this point."

After exploring another of the ruined villages that day, Vigo and his two friends found these odd cemented bowl-like structures in the ground that were holding water in them.

"Unless your arena is a lake of some sort, always try and camp next to some water source, but also try to stay hidden. Trees, shrubs, rocks, or even old structures if they exist, are good places to start." He pointed out. The others, including Junichi, had stayed silent this whole time, listening with interest.

"Day 14 is when things really started heating up." he continued, "by that point there were 5 of us left. It was a drought, and we had all but exhausted the water supplies in our bowls. That day there was the biggest monsoon I have ever seen in my life. We made the dire mistake of walking through one of those dry riverbeds. It flooded, and we were carried downstream. The worst of our luck was when we passed the careers—the girl from '2 knifed my partner with a lucky shot, and the boy from '5 ended up triggering a trap set by a District 11 boy a few days prior that somehow still worked. Well… when I finally washed up on shore, another cannon went off, which left just me and that girl from District 2. I'm fairly certain that we hated each other's guts from the get-go, but long story short, we fought and I won."

"So don't trust District 2 then," Wes shrugged after the story.

"I wouldn't." Vigo replied, "But after telling such a story, I need a little nap. I'll be up in a few hours."

"Alright," Wes and Ava both nodded, watching their mentor—their lifeline in the games, get up and disappear into his compartment.

"So, always follow the water, and avoid District 2," Wes turned to his sister, "seems simple enough." Of course, he knew that simple did not mean easy—nothing that involved death was ever an easy thing.


	3. Chapter 3: Leaving Home

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _In the which we learn a bit about that enigmatic escort, Junichi Thatch. Not all of the Capitol citizens are sick sadistic pricks, you know. Also, I have actually played the dice game that Vigo and Ava play, although it and the rules are irrelevant to the story._

**CHAPTER 3: Leaving Home**

With Vigo retiring to his quarters for the time being, Wes' attention turned to Junichi.

"So I guess we can get to know each other a bit more too, right?" he chuckled, trying to hide the mood that would naturally come with being thrown into a death tournament alongside his own sister.

"You're not going to dismiss me as some ditzy oblivious Capitol buffoon?" Jun chuckled, "well, I like you already, boy. Last year's tributes were not exactly happy with me, you know."  
"Oh?" Wes tilted his head as Ava put her own head into her arms after pushing her empty plate away. Well, he figured he could discredit Jun's remark about not being oblivious. If she did not realize what she was part of, then she did not understand why it was so hard on the tributes.

"Well, they acted like it was my fault that the Hunger Games existed—like I was there 91 years ago when it all happened. I don't look 91… do I?"

Ava peeked up, glanced over at the escort and her dark blue hair and sharp navy blue jacket, before shaking her head approvingly and lying back down.

"Good, good," Junichi heaved a fake little sigh of relief, "Because I'm not even half that age."  
"So how do you feel about…" he shrugged, "you know—celebrating the death of several children?"  
It was a very deep question, and if certain people had heard the question, terrible things might have happened in return. However, Junichi was much more reasonable than that.

"I will be honest," she lowered her voice. "There is an entertainment value to it for someone whose people and family will never have to suffer such a fate. However, many years it hurts to see tributes that I fell in love with get slaughtered in the arena."  
This was rather profound news for Wes to hear from someone of Capitol stature. Such things might have gotten the woman killed if she uttered it in the wrong presence.

"Admittedly, there are other tributes that I am indifferent towards because of their dislike towards me," Jun continued, her voice brightening again, "but I can safely and honestly say that I end up loving most of the tributes, and I am right alongside District 12 hoping that one of them returns as a victor. I think you and your sister might have what it takes."

"What makes you say that?" Wes tilted his head curiously, wondering what she saw in him or Ava that made her think they were victor material.

"you have a unique sense of determination about you." The escort explained, "Obviously it must be so hard on your parents right now, the poor souls. You know, grieving the loss of a child is a process. It begins the day the child passes, and ends the day the parent joins them."

"That… is rather profound," Wes' eyes widened, "where'd you hear that."  
"We have children just as you do," Junichi reminded him, "surely you did not think that we were spawned from a factory or something, did you?"

"Well, with how garish some of you look, it wouldn't surprise me," Wes tried his hand at a joke of his own, hopping that it didn't offend.

"Come now," the escort took it in stride, "I don't look THAT bad, do I?"  
"Nah, the darks really suit you." He admitted, expressing his own personal opinion on the matter. "But you didn't answer my question. Where did you hear that phrase?"

Junichi shook her head, sighing softly. "Let's just say that the districts are not the only ones with mothers who lose children."  
Wes' eyes widened for a brief moment and he frowned. This explained so much, and even Aveline looked up from her slumber in shock, giving Wes a look.

"Did she just say…" she whispered, and Wes nodded.

"I'm so sorry," Wes apologized, now feeling terrible for bringing it up.

"If nothing else," Jun responded, "it made me enjoy life more—it made me more understanding of you tributes. This is why I want you to win. I want to minimize my losses as well."  
"Your losses?" he tilted his head again. "Do you really bond with tributes like that?"  
"I try to, but I'm only human as well." She chuckled, pouring herself a cup of tea, "I do like you and your sister, however. If there is anything I can help you with, let me know." She gave them her somewhat cheesy little "Hunger Games" smile, as a lot of the locals from '12 called it: a big, ear-to-ear grin that was probably forced and/or shameless.

"What can we expect when we reach the Capitol? How long does it take to get there, by the way?"

"We'll be there tomorrow around 10:30, I believe. And there is a lot to expect when you reach the Capitol. After we get there you'll get to meet the stylists. I think you'll like them. After the parade and a good night's rest, it'll be off to the training center for you. I'm sure when Vigo wakes up he can tell you more about what to do then."

As much as she knew about the Capitol where she had grown up, Junichi was not too familiar with the procedures and protocols of the training center other than the apartments where the escorts, mentors, and stylists also stayed at. Vigo on the other hand, would know them firsthand from his own experiences about a decade earlier.

Wes glanced over at Ava and saw her face buried in her arms, He lifted some of her messy black waves and saw the side of her face. Her eye was closed, and she was out cold.

"Alright," he nodded at Junichi's remarks, "thanks. And may the odds be ever in our favor."

Junichi got up and left for her compartment as the train ride continued into the late afternoon. Wes leaned back and gazed out at the now setting sun, looking out the opposite window eastward towards where District 12 stood. It was somewhat haunting to know that one or both of them were never going to see that place again. He decided to rest up a little bit since Vigo and Ava were both asleep and Jun was off doing whatever it was she was doing. He leaned his head back, sighing, and fell asleep.

The sun was completely gone by the time he woke back up, and he saw Ava and Vigo throwing dice.

"Acha," Vigo shook his head as Ava threw a 4 and a 3, "20-14 your favor." He grabbed the dice, threw them, and passed them to Ava, who did the same. It was a fairly quick-paced game, with the only pauses being when one of them threw double 1s (where they lost a point) or when they threw 7 or 11.

"Oh hey Wes," Ava noticed her brother as she threw an 11. "21-14, and game; did you sleep well?"

"Yup," he shrugged, smacking his lips, "and you?"  
"Of course," she nodded, "Vigo wanted to talk with us as soon as you woke up. We were just playing dice in the meantime."  
"So what'd you want to talk about," Wes scratched his head as he turned towards Vigo, rolling his shoulders before shifting back comfortably into his seat.

"I just wanted to make sure you two are up to snuff with how things go before the arena. Did Junichi tell you two anything about what to expect or anything worthwhile?"  
"She told us that she lost a child," Wes blurted out before moving his hand to his mouth as if to retract what he had said.

"Ah, yes. I do know about that." Vigo nodded somberly, "but what I want you to know, before we start, is that Junichi is a good woman. Now, I'm obviously on your side and not the Capitol's, but obviously you know that not all of them are like that—most of them are simply oblivious. I think that whatever happened to Jun's child made her able to relate a bit more to what parents feel; and she doesn't want to see anyone suffer that more than is absolutely necessary. Now, I'm sure you're both thinking why the hell she doesn't just tell them to stop the 'Games. If it was that easy, it would have probably happened 15 years ago or something. Anyways, long story short—she's really rooting for you."  
"That's all the more reason we need your help, Vigo." Wes insisted, "Everything else you think would be useful for us to know—tell us everything."  
"I promise I will." He reassured them, since he had already told them his success story. "But remember, I don't know the tributes any more than you do at this point. Anything I am able to pick up, however, I'll be sure to share with the two of you."

"Is there anything you can tell us at this point?" Wes repeated  
"just the usual—stay alive." Vigo warned, "at this point, you might as well get some sleep. Your compartments are down that hall across from each other.

Ava and Wes slowly pulled themselves up and bade each other and Vigo a goodnight before reaching their rooms. Tomorrow, the real fun would begin…


	4. Chapter 4: Into the Capitol

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _Even in this alternate universe where the 2nd rebellion never happened, Katniss Everdeen still exists and actually still managed to win a Hunger Games. However, She and the stories behind her and her 'games are not terribly important to this plot, so don't think about them too hard.  
_

**CHAPTER 4: Into the Capitol**

Maybe it was because of his nap, but Wes found himself unable to sleep for a while after he had dressed for bed and climbed in. The bed itself was more comfortable than anything he had ever slept on in his life, and he had heard that the amenities in the apartments they would be staying in were even better than the train, which made sense. He opened the window and still saw the desolate landscape whiz past him as they soared towards the Capitol at remarkable speeds. Wes had no idea how trains worked, but knew that this was the work of District 6 for sure.

He grabbed a remote on a nearby nightstand, and flipped on the TV that was on the wall across from the bed. There wasn't much to watch, but those who were not squeamish could rewatch old footage of the Hunger Games to observe different arena possibilities or behaviors of tributes. It was not exactly a delightful thing to watch, but there was something to be gained from it all.

He watched Vigo's Hunger Games, and saw him and that girl from District 2 square off. She brandished a pair of hammers, while all Vigo had was a handaxe. They fought, with the smaller boy taking the defensive for a while and acting weak and exhausted, while in reality, he was looking for an opening and stalling in the meantime. When he found on, he landed the axe in her chest, dropping her into the river, which strangely did not seem to be flowing as wildly as it had been moments before.

Wes jumped backwards to another game a few years earlier, where District 12's other victor had been crowned the victor—the 3rd Quarter Quell. The twist that year had been that the tributes selected were between the ages of 17 and 25. District 12 had shone this year, where ironically, the victor it produced was a girl of 17 who had volunteered no less. As Wes saw her in action, he remembered clearly who this was. Some called her "Black Death" because of the clothes she wore and because of how lethal she had been during the games. Disappearing into the dense foliage of that year's arena, this Katniss Everdeen essentially went around sniping tributes with a powerful bow, and did so more or less with impunity. She was good—very good. Wes sort of wished she had come with them, but he would make do with Vigo for now. The man knew what he was doing after all, having emerged from the 'games alive himself.

Watching both Vigo and Katniss win a Hunger Games took a good couple of hours, and he only watched the highlights of each one, before he drifted off. Capitol Technology was good enough that a few minutes after Wes was asleep the TV shut itself off to prevent waking him up with the sounds of Hunger Games footage. It was a bit ironic—the Capitol cared everything for their tributes, pampering them and catering to their every need and (reasonable) whim, up until they were thrown into the arena. From then on out, they were on their own. They did love their victors though.

Surprisingly, he felt awake and refreshed when he woke up the next morning. Now that it was morning, he decided to look around at the once dark room that was now lit up with the rays of sun. It was a cozy little place with its own private washroom, and upon further examination, he noticed it even had a shower. Well, he figured that if he was going to appear in front of Capitol citizens even for a brief period of time as he and his team walked from the train to the Tribute Tower, that he might as well at least look and smell presentable, instead of like dirt and game like many District 12 tributes did, especially those who snuck out and hunted at nights.

Wes stripped down and tried out the shower. Moments later his body was covered with a variety of colorful substances that amused and intrigued him. He knew they were not toxic or harmful, because they wouldn't booby trap the tributes like that.

A few minutes later, he emerged from the weird colorful shower and dried off, smelling and feeling much cleaner and better. His skin was a little bit lighter, although more than that, was no longer spotted with dirt. He found some new and comfortable clothes in the dresser and put them on. Other than their cleanliness, they looked just like the kind of attire one would find in District 12. That was mighty convenient in his opinion.

Now clean and dressed, Wes stepped out into the hall towards the dining car to go get some breakfast. He wondered if Ava was up, but her absence at the table meant she was still sleeping. It did feel a bit early, but there was Junichi all fully dressed in those dark blues again. He wondered how long it took her to get ready in the mornings, but didn't bother asking.

"Top of the morning to you," she beamed. "You figured out the showers correctly, it looks like."

"I did," Wes chuckled, and paused as he heard a shriek of surprise. Moments later, Ava stumbled out of her room wearing a towel and dripping wet.

"How the HELL do those showers work?" she stammered, "Why is everything purple?"

"That's normal, Ava," Wes laughed, "relax."  
She shook her head, blushing behind her dark-skinned face and disappeared back into her room.

"Good show." Vigo quipped, referring to her reaction rather than state of undress.

"I'll say," Wes agreed, "okay, I admit that it made me jump a little when I first saw it, but after I realized that it wasn't flesh-eating acid, I decided it was fine."

"Well," Junichi piped up, "you best be getting some breakfast soon. We shall be arriving in the Capitol within the next hour or so."

Wes filled his plate without hesitation, eating his fill for one of the first times in his life. He was joined by a messy-haired but clean and dressed Ava a few minutes later, who quietly ate alongside him. The back of Wes' mind was preoccupied with concern for his sister. Of the two, he was obviously the larger and stronger one, and he had a bit more charm than her too. She was not much of a talker, and the Capitol found it hard to relate with tributes who could not at least be appealing in one way or another. Quiet ones could get away with showing off combat abilities, and sometimes even if one did not do well with weapons, their charm and good looks could earn them enough sponsorship gifts to pull out a win.

It was for these reasons that he feared for Ava. She wouldn't stand a chance, he was pretty sure. He knew that he could not ever fully abandon his sister, but he decided that he wanted to watch out more for himself in the 'games, so that their mother could at least see one of her children again.

"Ah, there it is!" Junichi sighed happily, glancing out the window. Wes and Ava both turned around and saw the monstrously sprawling Capitol for the first time. Admittedly, they were in awe at the size and beauty of the place, even if it represented their oppression.

The siblings were transfixed by it until the train gradually pulled to a stop. This was the point of no return. Once they stepped off that train, the Capitol would get their first view of this year's tributes from District 12.

"Chins up; smiles on;" Junichi beamed. "This is where you make your first impressions. Try to wave; be friendly." It was easier said than done, Wes thought. He was pretty sure that Ava was just as anxious about the whole thing as he was.

They stepped off the train and into the bright light of the Capitol afternoon. There were enthusiastic cheers and chants, even for District 12, which was still often considered the laughingstock of Panem. Shyly, Wes and Ava smiled and waved a little, glancing on either side of them as they made their way to the Tribute Tower. Once they were inside, Jun explained that this would be where they lived for the next week or so during training. Both siblings leaned against the wall of the elevator as it went up—neither one had ridden an elevator before; it did give them something of motion sickness.

When they got to the apartment, they once again found themselves awestruck at how much more magnificent it was than anything back home.

"Well…" the escort beamed at them. "Make yourselves at home."  
Ava nodded and took to one of the sofas, kicking off her shoes and stretching her bare feet in the process. Wes sat down near her, although stayed silent, still trying to take everything in. 24 hours ago he had been stepping up to the stage after hearing his and his sister's name called. Now, here he was in the Capitol itself, basking in its splendor as they prepped him up to become a murderer. Frankly, it felt more surreal than anything else, and he was still unable to wrap his mind around it all…


	5. Chapter 5: Diamonds in the Rough

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _I am aware of a potential scientific fact that a part of this chapter might contradict. However, I do not think that the Capitol worries much about that when styling a tribute's parade costume, and so neither will I._

**CHAPTER 5: Diamonds in the Rough**

After a moment of watching the siblings get comfortable, Junichi spoke up. "Your room is on the left, Aveline; and Wesley, yours is on the right. If you need Vigo or I for anything tonight, we are down that hall. Everything else should be fairly easy to figure out. Don't go far though—Amadeus and Celine will be arriving soon to dress you up for tonight." She motioned her hand towards her and Vigo's hall as to where she would be, before walking in that direction, the 'clip-clop' of her high-heeled shoes growing fainter as she disappeared.

"Welp," Ava turned to her brother, "this is it, I guess, eh?"  
"Part of me feels like this is just a really bad and weird dream that I am going to wake up from," Wes admitted, "I'm still in disbelief about the reapings. I mean, it's one thing to get reaped, but for a brother and sister to both get reaped in the same year just blows my mind."

"They definitely try to butter us up" Ava insisted, "glaze over the fact that this is the death of several children that they are celebrating. Look around you."

Wes realized that Ava had a point. The lavish trains, the delicious food, the extravagant living quarters and soon the wild and exquisite costumes—all of it led to the glamorization of children who would all be dead within a couple of weeks—all but one, and Wes had a sinking feeling that it would not be him or Ava returning to see their family again.

"They're not all bad people though." Wes insisted, "I know that doesn't make it right, but if we blame them all, then we'd be no better than the Capitol blaming every District for what a bunch of dead people did 91 years ago."

"I know." Ava nodded, "I don't really want to think about it too much. I'm interested in meeting the stylists though." She did not even have any idea of what to predict that they would dress her in. Clothing and fashion were not exactly high on District 12'sm priority list. Hygiene wasn't either, although up until earlier when they had showered, Wes and Ava had possessed a distinct smell that Junichi had tried to ignore, even if it was perfectly normal to smell that way in the district.

They did not have to wait long, and soon two individuals appeared that struck the siblings as rather odd—at least compared to what they were used to back home. Both were dressed in loose, silky purple clothing. Their skin was a natural (light) color, and their feet were bare. The purple hair and electric blue eyes were supposedly just more of the modifications that the Capitol liked to apply to their bodies, although all in all, Wes wasn't disappointed. The only thing that really stood out as genuinely unusual was that their ears were long and pointed, but that was a minor thing he could live with.

"Wesley and Aveline is it?" One of them, presumably the male, stepped forward. It was hard to tell them apart because both of them had matching waist-length hair. This one had a deeper voice and was slightly less curvy, however, so Wes assumed this must be Amadeus.

Celine stepped forward as well, and the two stylists introduced themselves appropriately. Both of them seemed rather surprised at the striking resemblance that Wes and Ava held.

"I've never seen two tributes look so close." Celine exclaimed, though Ava cut her off and cleared up the mystery then and there.

"We're siblings." She quipped rather bluntly. For a moment there was a bout of hushed silence as their mouths and eyes widened. The idea did not seem to sit well with them either, even if they had technically watched the reapings as well.

"Well," Amadeus smiled at them a moment later after collecting his emotions, "let us be off then. We have much to do to prepare the two of you for tonight. I think we will be able to make this spectacular."

"Are we gonna match?" Ava asked as they descended to an underground level that looked like a cross between a dressing room, a studio, and an operating room. Here, Wes and Ava parted ways, with Amadeus taking Wes one way and Celine taking Ava the other.

"It's rather possible." Celine did not seem to want to give away the secret just yet. Ava groaned. "My momma used to make us match when we were younger."  
"Well…" Celine smiled, "know that whatever we end up doing, you should like it. Now, undress for me and step into there," she motioned towards what looked like a metallic shower.

Ava seemed a little apprehensive at first, but after noticing that Celine was doing her own thing rather than watching her, she stripped down and did as she was told. After a brief shower, she was laid down on what she could only describe as an operating table.

"What happens here?" she was confused, and felt slightly awkward given that she was still naked.

"We just clean you up here," she explained, and shortly set to work. To cut a long story short, Soon Ava's skin was smooth and clean and devoid of any body hair, which most of District 12 had simply because they had no real reason to shave it. She could only assume that Wes was getting the same treatment.

"Now comes the best part," the stylist grinned, helping Ava to her feet. "Follow me."  
Celine led the young girl into the studio portion, and there in front of them was a pile of fabric with flames coming off of it. Naturally, the teen was skeptical.

"Uh… I think someone set it on fire?" she tilted her head as Celine began doing up Ava's hair.

"That's supposed to happen," Celine chuckled softly, "it's not real fire, but it's a very close lookalike that was perfected a few years ago. Go ahead—put it on. It won't hurt."

Apprehensively, Ava pulled on the outfit in front of her and after donning some similar shoes, she glanced at herself in the mirror. The outfit was rather form-fitting, and was black with the dull reflective luster of coal. Ava could instantly see the connection here.

"Burning coal;" she looked skeptical once again, but instead of responding, Celine handed her a small switch with a single button in the middle, helping the girl attach it to her waist.

"Wait about 30 seconds after you first appear on the square, and then hit the switch." She assured the tribute, "and then you will see the true intent of this outfit. I would explain it more clearly, but I don't want to spoil the surprise!" she gave a hearty little chuckle as Ava stared at herself in the mirror.

"What's Amadeus putting Wes in?" she asked.

"Now that you're dressed, I'll admit," Celine indicated, "you will match him. Don't let that discourage you though. Now, let's go meet up with them, shall we?"  
The stylist offered her hand, and Ava took it, being led out the other end of the studio. Sure enough, Wes matched her, and the two glanced at each other, their thin forms still being rather revealed because of the snugness of their costumes. Everything was modestly covered except their heads and hands despite this though.

They were soon led to where the chariots were waiting, and here they finally got to catch an early glimpse of their competition—they definitely had their work cut out for them as they nervously glanced around at the other tributes. Even the kids from District 11 seemed fairly confident, but District 11 had had a history of very competent mentors for years now. The careers all looked intimidating as usual—the girl from District 2 was at least as tall as her partner and was clearly at least 6 feet tall. Even the rather diminutive tributes from Districts 3 and 4 looked rather ruthless. Time would tell.

There was no time to interact though, because shortly after the tributes had boarded the chariots, the doors opened, and out went District 1, followed by District 2, and so on. As soon as the District 12 chariot began moving, Wes turned to Ava.

"Did Celine give you a switch?" he whispered.

"Yup," she nodded, "Did Amadeus give you one?"

He nodded slowly. For a moment they stood stoically, the flames on their outfits intensifying as they continued. About halfway through the trip, they flipped the switches, and suddenly they burst into (fake) flames for a split second, before the flames died away. Ava and Wes were not the only ones in awe upon seeing each other now. Gone were the flames and coal-esque appearance, and their outfits were now studded with glittering stones—diamonds (or at least imitations).

This bolstered the young tribute pair's confidence rather significantly, and they held their hands up triumphantly as the Capitol audiences cheered loudly in their direction. Perhaps they weren't as unexciting as they had first thought.

Wes smiled at the thought, and kept this streak of confidence high as the ride slowly continued to make its way down the square to the President's balcony. He and Ava had left a good first impression, and he was now under the impression that they might actually stand a chance to get noticed. Perhaps the odds were leaning in their favor after all.


	6. Chapter 6: The Girl from District Two

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **_This chapter serves primarily to give us a glimpse of one of the mysterious __other __tributes that will be participating in this year's 'games. Obviously there will be further time for extended development as the story progresses._

**CHAPTER 6: The Girl from District Two**

Within a few minutes, the cheering had died down, and the 12 chariots all lined up in a semicircle around a balcony, where out emerged the man behind the malice—President Coriolanus Snow himself. He seemed to have aged well over all these years, but then again, few outside of perhaps District 3 understood the true power and extent of Capitol technology. Wes was still fairly certain that the Capitol's technology dwarfed District 3's; just as its luxuries outdid District 1's, and its military might outdid District 2's, and so on; so forth.

Wes expected him to give a long, glorious speech about how wonderful the Capitol was or the glory of the Hunger Games or something, but instead, his speech was short and simple.

"Welcome to the 91st Annual Hunger Games." He said in his usual calm but commanding tone. "And may the odds be ever in your favor."

The fanfare began again and the chariots began rolling again. Wes barely noticed that tall girl from District 2 leaning over and whispering something to her partner, but considering that there were nine chariots between them, there was no way he would be able to tell what it was.

Still, once back in the training center, there was always a chance to cross paths with another tribute or two in an elevator. They met back up with Vigo, who led them to an empty car and hit the '12' button. Right before the door closed though, two very different-sized girls stepped in. One of them was that squat but slim girl from District 4, and the other was the tall girl from District 2. Wes and Ava immediately felt a bit awkward, while Vigo just tried to act casual.

"4 please," the short girl requested, and Ava, who was closest to the buttons, pressed it for her.

"So… District 12, is it?" the taller girl asked rhetorically. Wes nodded.

"The name's Chel; District 2." She extended her hand. Wes ignored it, but Ava mentally shrugged and then shook it anyways. "Aveline, District 12." She introduced herself softly but firmly.

After the girl from '4 got off at her landing, the elevator continued upwards, and Wes noticed that the 'R' (rooftop) button was still lit. It looked like they'd be riding with her the rest of the way.

"It's good to see at least one of you has some decency." She retorted, "I like you, Aveline. Tell these others to lighten up or something. I would have thought those glitzy outfits would do the job."

Ava looked back down and remembered that she was still covered in diamond-like patterns that were glittery and frankly, in her eyes, quite beautiful.

When the elevator stopped at the 12th floor, Vigo, Ava, and Wes all got off, and Chel waved goodbye to Ava, also using Vigo's name. Most tributes knew most of the recent victors.

"Danger, danger, danger," Vigo shook his head and waved his hands dismissively. "If that girl didn't have "I'm going to kill you so hard" written all over her face, I don't know what does."  
"She seemed pretty friendly to me," Ava shrugged, staring intently at her glittering shoes.

"There will be plenty of people that come off as friendly, and some of them might actually mean it," Vigo reminded them, "but remember—there is only one victor, and so as much as I hate to say it—there may come a time when even you two have to become enemies."  
"Don't be so sure," Wes challenged, "even if the Gamemakers do nothing, it's not like we have to go down fighting each other to the death. It could just be a clean kill—but that's not going to happen."  
"At least you still hold something of a positive outlook, kid." Vigo indicated, "I lost that kind of hope years ago. All I'm saying is to beware of anyone who calls you a friend, and only ally with people you can trust. You'll have plenty of time to learn who is who by the time tomorrow rolls around. Otherwise, I suggest that the both of you get some rest. I'll see you in the morning."

Wes nodded, and went into his room to dress for bed. The process was relatively swift, and after washing the makeup from his face, he stepped back out to see if he could find Ava. She was not in her room, but a quick trip to the nearby balcony pinpointed the girl, still in the rather snug, glittery parade costume. She was gazing out at the Capitol lights, some of which reflected off of her outfit alongside the moonlight, making her quite a dazzling little spectacle in contrast with her brown skin and loose, curly black hair. She turned towards Wes when she heard him, her eyes almost glimmering in the moonlight alongside her outfit.

"Hey," he muttered, lowering his head. "Sorry about that girl—I just don't want to see her put an axe through you in the opening seconds of the games."

"I understand your concern," Ava nodded softly, "but think of what it'd be like to get her as an ally; she's probably good at everything."  
"That's the problem with strong allies though," Wes reminded her, "eventually they have to turn on you whether they like it or not, and you can bet that that career girl is going to do so swiftly and ruthlessly when that time comes, or earlier."

"I know…" Ava shrugged, "but I'd almost rather die quickly at the hands of an ally turning on me than have to spend the last days of my life running and hiding and staying awake all night in fear of an ambush or something—or worse, die in the bloodbath."

"That makes sense," Wes agreed, "just that District 2… come on; that's just suicidal."  
Ava simply shrugged again. "we've got a week to find out."  
"Fair enough," Wes put his arm around his sister's shoulder and gave her a little squeeze. "love ya, sis. Don't stay up all night in fear. There aren't any career tributes coming to hunt you down up here."

"Alright; goodnight, Wes." She smiled, and watched as her brother disappeared.

Once she was certain that Wes was back in her room, she raced towards the hall and the elevator, and quickly went up to the rooftop, in hopes that that girl would still be there.

To her delight and relief, she was, although she suddenly felt apprehensive about approaching a girl that was easily at least a foot taller than her. She stood at about 6'5" and 182 pounds—very fit and tall.

She jumped when she heard the girl's voice though.

"Nice costume," Chel chuckled. Ava looked down and realized she was still in the exotic attire from the parade earlier and blushed a little in the dim moonlight.

"So," the larger girl continued, "was it my feminine charm that drew you back to me, or was it fear and admiration? Don't worry; I won't laugh."  
"Curiosity," Ava admitted, "I thought the career tributes hated Districts 11 and 12 and such."  
"Most of 'em do," Chel nonchalantly shrugged. "but to say that we're all these militaristic and bloodthirsty freaks would be like saying that District 12 is full of nothing but starving little twerps who are little more than bloodbath fodder."  
"Hey!" Ava sounded offended, "give us SOME credit."  
"Will you do the same for District 2 then?" Chel instantly retorted.

"I can't say the same about your partner, but I can at least hear you out then."  
"I can't say I liked the cold shoulder your friend and mentor gave me."

"Hey, Wes is just looking out for me like any good brother would."

Chel paused, turning around to look the smaller tribute in the eyes. "He's your brother?"

"Yeah," Ava sighed, looking down dejectedly,

"Well, I can't say that I like him the way I like you—but if it's any consolation, I'll try to avoid killing him if I can. I mean, that only goes so far, y'know. Hunger Games and all."

"What are you going to do tomorrow during training?" Ava asked,

"I'll come find you if you want. Don't worry—I won't be killing anyone before the 'games begin."

"What will the other say?" Ava sounded curious.

"What others?" Chel tilted her head, "the other careers? Who gives a damn what they say? Who gives a damn what your brother says? You don't need people to approve of your alliances—you just need to make sure you outlive them."  
"So why are you so interested in me?" she asked

"You're cute, for one," Chel squeezed Ava's much smaller hand, "but you remind me of someone I once knew. It's a long story involving a girl and a bet."

"What girl and what bet—hey!" Ava squealed as she felt her feet pulled from the ground. She suddenly found herself in Chel's arms, with the larger girl laughing down at her and walking back towards the halls and the elevator.

"Get some sleep, kiddo—we can talk more, tomorrow morning, unless you discover that I'm actually a ruthless murderer or something."

Once in the elevator, Chel set Ava back on her feet as she dropped her off on the 12th floor and she disappeared down towards floor 2. Ava quickly stripped and went to bed, falling asleep quickly, and ironically, happily. Chel, of all people, had left an impact on the younger girl.


	7. Chapter 7: The Tributes

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**_ this chapter is also to help introduce some of the many other colorful tributes that will be participating in this year's games. Some of them may also reference various random past 'games, and will help set the stage for what the current Hunger Games culture entails._

**CHAPTER 7: The Tributes**

Wes woke up the next morning fairly early, as he was used to doing back home, and found a set of black clothing with a red and grey stripe on each side waiting for him on the dresser—obviously this year's uniform for the Training Center. The only thing that set his apart from all the others was that there was a large number 12 on each of his shoulders. He put it on and soon went out into the dining room to find Avoxes bringing in fresh breakfast. Becoming an Avox—that was probably the only thing worse than being reaped into the Hunger Games—a silent, enslaved fate worse than death. That was something Wes wished upon no one, not even the most vicious of career tributes. He did not see Vigo or Jun present, but was greeted by Celine and Amadeus.

"There you are," the latter smiled, "we almost started wondering. Your sister was in and out at least an hour ago."  
"Where did she go?" he exclaimed

"The training center, of course," Celine chuckled. There was not really anywhere else Ava could have gone without making a scene and getting in trouble. "A lot of tributes try to start early to get a chance at training without garnering unwanted attention from the others."

It seemed motivating enough for Wes, and so he ate quickly and made his way to the training center's basement, where he noticed only about 7 other tributes. Among them were both of the tributes from Districts 2 and 4; a girl from District 7, a boy from District 10, and Ava. The latter of these was watching a large girl wielding a battleaxe in each hand, fighting off swarms of holographic targets. She was strong, fast, and the way she spun her weapons made her footwork look almost like a dance. One attack led to another, and holograms exploded left and right as she landed killing blows on each one.

It seemed the girl had an audience, for even the little tributes from District 4 watched her, as did the girl from '7. Wes joined in on this, also catching Ava's attention.

"How early did you wake up?" he chuckled.

"I've been here a couple hours," she explained, "Chel was showing me some tricks."

"Who's Chel—oh." He frowned. Clearly the idea of his sister befriending a tribute from District 2 was not something that sat well with him.

"Here's a question," he continued, "If somehow, you and Chel are the last two tributes, and she somehow submits—will you be able to kill her?"  
"Every victor is a murderer, Wes," Ava shook her head; "we're in this room to learn how to become murderers. There is no sugar-coating it."  
"You've been listening to '2 too much, haven't you?" Wes sighed  
"Are you saying she's wrong?" Ava argued, "Tell me—what else are we here for?"

"Hey, hey," a voice from in front of them chanted. The girl had put away her battleaxes and approached them, "let's not try to stir ourselves up for the 'games just yet. We've got another week or so before we're tossed into the arena."  
She paused, noticing Wes again. "I'd introduce myself, but my reception was rather cold last time."  
Ava let out a little chuckle. "Chel, if I had talent like you did, I'd win these games within a week!"  
"Maybe I will," she shrugged with a chuckle.

"Ava, stop this," Wes interfered, taking her hand.

"Are you her keeper, boy?" Chel quipped.

"I'm her brother." He insisted. "And I have to at least try to get one of us home and to keep us safe for as long as is reasonably possible."

"Let your sister make her own decisions," Chel insisted, "She's a big girl."

"I could say the same to you." Wes retorted.

"I'm not telling her to do anything, least of all trust me." the taller girl chuckled, "She asked me to show her a few tricks and tips, and so I did. We had arranged to meet here about two hours ago."

They were drawing an audience, which was making Wes and Ava a little uncomfortable.

"Are you pulling 12's chain or something, Chel?" A boy with a 2 on his shoulders raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe I'm pulling yours, Chaco," she winked, using the boy's name, or maybe I'm just playing. It *is* called the Hunger Games after all, and if it doesn't bring you glory, gold, or giggles, what's the point?"

Chaco dismissively chuckled and shook his head. "Zaffre and Lazuli said they'd be down for the usual gang; you in?"  
"Don't talk so loud," she joked, "you'll frighten the others."  
During this time, Wes had pulled Ava aside.

"See," he pointed out, "she's totally just setting you up."

"Wes, you're not getting it." Ava shook her head, "The odds are stacked against us. Look at those tributes… they're insane." He pointed towards where the kids from District 4 were—the boy was carrying a giant mace, while the girl was swinging a scythe that was longer than she was. When Wes caught their eyes, the girl paused, licking the blade of her weapon almost tauntingly, before going back to her activities. On the other hand, Chaco was speaking to Chel again, and he heard the boy chant a familiar phrase that he had heard a few times before.

"_May the odds make it true that when you're mortally wounded in an excruciatingly painful way, that your body goes into shock and you don't feel anything as you die."_

Chel in turn laughed at the remark, and Chaco laughed with her. Ava remembered hearing this phrase, but her curiosity got the best of her, and so she stepped away from Wes to ask Chel where they had gotten it from.

"Who invented that phrase?" she blurted out, approaching the rather intimidating boy, but migrating towards Chel in reality.

"The one I just chanted?" Chaco tilted his head curiously. "The story from '2 goes that it came from a victor girl from District 11 about 50 years ago or so."  
"So how did it get popular in District 2?" she asked them; not directing it to either of them in particular. "And I guess how has it stayed popular for so long?"  
"Well now it's a Panem-wide thing," Chel laughed, "one of our mentors who was about that girl's age heard her say it, and he liked it, and it caught on among us careers as an in-joke. District 6 helped spread it, and I think your district did too. By the 2nd Quarter Quell, I think all but two or three districts were saying it, and those came within the next couple years."

By this point, Wes had gone back to his training over at the survival station where kids from the poorer districts tended to fare better. He was not quite ready to dismiss Ava as a lost cause, but he knew that she was getting involved with the wrong crowd. He groaned inaudibly as he noticed a pair of tributes from District 1 and a girl from District 3 appear, and they were talking to the other careers.

"So she just comes up and talks to you, Chaco?" the girl from '1 exclaimed.

"I like this kid a little," Chaco grinned, "she's got some gall—most of them shit themselves even looking at us—her partner kinda did that and ran off I think."  
Wes gripped the stick he was holding particularly tightly at that moment, but there was nothing he felt he could do against those mighty Career Tributes, who seemed to have already skillfully ensnared his sister. He continued working at the various stations, watching as Ava followed them around and tried her hand at a few things. He listened closely for anything that might bring up more red flags, but most of them seemed more impressed that she had the audacity to mingle with them instead of anyone else. That took courage, even if at the back of most of their minds, they were definitely planning on killing her first if they formed an alliance that would have to eventually be broken.  
After a while, lunch time came, and by then, even the latest tribute had been there for at least a couple of hours. Kids loaded their plates and trays up with food, particularly those from the outer districts, who had never eaten a full meal in their lives. Wes sat near the tributes from District 11, who he learned were named Florence and Ginger, while the careers all sat together. '1 and '2 were closest, but '3 and '4 were also nearby. The outlying cause was that little Ava was sitting at the end of their table with them, right beside Chel, who seemed to have taken the smaller girl under her wing in an odd sort of way.  
District 11 seemed friendly enough this year, although Wes still thought it was too early to be making friends, and could not get his mind off of how recklessly foolish Ava was being right now with her supposed little dream of joining the Careers. He had to find a way to get that idea out of her head before they decided that she knew too much or something—he needed to talk to Vigo.


	8. Chapter 8: Twelve and Two

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _This is sort of a philosophical chapter. Vigo, Ava, Wes, and even Junichi all have their various views on the 'games, and Junichi's head isn't as in the clouds as much as the average Capitol citizen. Well, and of course Chel seems to know a lot about them... so I guess it's a matter of who people agree with the most in this regard._

**CHAPTER 8: Twelve and Two**

Wes left the training center earlier than Ava in hopes of finding Vigo before Ava also showed up and tried to sway him differently. Upon finding the mentor on the 12th floor, it did not take Vigo long to realize that there was something on the boy's mind. Wes explained what he knew of Ava's situation, saying that she was mingling with the Career tributes, particularly that tall girl from District 2 they had met in the elevator the night before. All of this was true of course, and Vigo seemed to side with Wes on the matter, much to his inclination.

"The problem with the Career pack is that there is no way out." Vigo warned, "If they put their eyes on you, you're basically doomed. On one hand, you can join them and they'll kill you first when they finally turn on each other; but on the other hand, if you refuse their offer they'll label you as enemy #1 and almost always try to kill you first anyway."  
"That's what I tried telling her," Wes shook his head, "I know that our odds aren't exactly spectacular, but if we have to die, I at least want she and I to make it past the first day."

"Then you need to stick together," Vigo insisted, "We need to get this mentality that she's good enough to run with the careers out of her head."  
"Just because you were unable to run with the big dogs does not necessarily mean that she is not." A voice from behind them cooed. Vigo and Wes spun around and saw Junichi walking in.

"And what do you know about it," Vigo quipped.

"I watch the Hunger Games on a regular basis, so I am roughly familiar with all 90 of them. This would not be the first time a career pack has taken a tribute from District 12 under their wing. Perhaps they know something about Ava's skills that she has not shown you."

"That's still not the same," Vigo insisted, "Jun, I lived it."  
"Do you suspect that the other 89 Hunger Games have all been identical to yours?"  
"No, but the kid's going way in over her head; and now a girl from '2 is following her everywhere."

"Think about it," Junichi quipped, her Capitol side briefly showing again, "how ironic would it be if Ava and Chel formed an alliance and swept the field? Perhaps _you_ should join _her_, Wes."

"Have you seen that girl?" Wes exclaimed, "She's like twice my sister's size!"

"I'm not saying I'm right," Junichi headed past them down a hall, "I'm just saying that you might be underestimating the talent of one of your tributes, Vigo, dear."

Vigo shook his head, before turning back to Wes.

"It's hard," he told him, "being a mentor. You have to train two tributes each year knowing that at least one of them is going to die. It's especially hard for me this year because you two are siblings. If you go home, your sister dies. If she goes home, her brother dies."

"I want her to live." Wes sighed, "Almost more than myself. I do not think there is much I can do for her though unless I want to sacrifice myself for her. I could do that if we were the last two alive, but the odds of that happening are not in my favor."

The two of them seemed to come to this conclusion every time they spoke about it, and as the conversation wore on, soon an exhausted Aveline staggered into the apartment from the elevator, flopping onto a sofa and spreading herself out.

"So how was training," Vigo asked the exhausted girl. She muttered something inaudible into the armrest and made no real effort to move.

"Turn around, sis," Wes suggested. Ava rolled her head over and closed her eyes.

"It was really fun, actually." The exhausted girl admitted, "Chel and Chaco taught me a few things—mostly just Chel though. She's really good—at like, everything."

"I just want you and your brother to be safe," Vigo warned, "If you want to trust the career tributes… just make sure that you're willing to trust your life with them for at least a few days. When they break their alliances up, they still go for who they think is the weakest."  
"Then I guess I'll have to make sure I'm not the weakest one," Ava yawned, still clearly exhausted from all the strenuous physical activity from the training facility had given her this day.

Vigo paused, turning from Ava back to Wes before speaking up again. "Tell me, you two," he looked between them, "do you fear death?"  
"Doesn't anyone?" Wes tilted his head. It seemed like an obvious question to him. "Even if you don't fear for your own life—what happens to those you leave behind who have to cope with your loss?"  
"I can't exactly say that I matched that sentiment," Vigo admitted, "The Capitol didn't kill my parents—my mother died in a mining accident, and my father died before I was able to ever remember him. I hate to say this, but you'll have to overcome that fear of death if you want to get far in the 'games. You need to stay focused on the situation at hand—even one moment of distraction and you could get offed."  
"I don't fear death." Ava piped up, still lying on her side on that sofa. Wes and Vigo turned towards her, slightly surprised at her bold and forward statement. Noticing their skeptical looks, she repeated herself.

"I don't fear death," she rehashed, "If one of us deserves to go home, it's Wes. He's got a much higher chance of survival than I do, and he does more to put bread on the table for our mother than I would."  
"So you're just giving in?" Wes gave her a stare that could only be described as a cross between skeptical and disgusted. "You're just going to let those careers do you in?"  
"I didn't say that." Ava shook her head slowly. "But I guess you could say I'm taking a chance here. I trust the careers more than either of you two do."  
"Ava, look," Vigo tried to reason with her, "I'm not advising you against them for my own personal grudges or stories. I am warning you against them because they are dangerous, and even if you become the best friends in Panem, there can still only be one victor. Ever since I won, I have been trying to bring home another victor. You've gotta understand that a bond between a mentor and his tributes is often fairly strong. I feel for each of you—I know what you are about to face, and I want at least one of you to be able to go home. I wish that upon my tributes year after year. I've watched Chel just as much as you have—she could probably outdo a lot of the current victors across the districts. I guess what I'm saying is to keep her within sight if you absolutely have to try to befriend her."  
"I'm still against the idea myself," Wes reaffirmed, "and I think it's dangerous."  
"It's very dangerous," Vigo agreed, "but it can be done. And even with my remark, I'm still aversive to the idea Ava. Just make sure that over the next few days of training, you find out for sure if you're going to try and go through with it or if you're going to back away." He and Wes both hoped that she would see the folly of her ways and retreat before the careers decided that she was actually betraying them. That would just mean they would target her first and kill her messily once in the arena.

"Either way," Aveline rolled over, "I'm done with training for today. I think I woke up too early." Although she fully planned on waking up that early again tomorrow because she and Chel planned on exchanging tips and tricks and conversations before anyone else came. Now that she knew that both Wes and Vigo disapproved of it, she wanted to do it more in secret.

Wes on the other hand, was torn. He was fairly strong, at least for District 12 standards, but he knew that he couldn't go out issuing threats to any of the careers, let alone that Chel girl. While Ava kicked her shoes off and stretched her bare feet as she rolled back over, Wes sat down on a nearby chair and got comfortable as he rested a little. A nap always felt nice after a nice big meal, and the tributes from District 12 always ate rather unapologetically large amounts of food. Arguably, they had more food in the week of training than any other time in their lives.

He pondered a few things as he sat though. What if Vigo was wrong and Ava was right? What if Chel really did want to help Ava? Wes seemed okay with the idea of Ava going home if he couldn't, but if he was dead there was no way of making sure. No, he had to try and get the truth from her. He knew that that entailed, and while the idea made him nervous, he knew he had to try otherwise he had already failed. He had to go and try to directly confront Chel.


	9. Chapter 9: The Careers

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _Junichi's level of awareness about the things surrounding the Hunger Games is actually very high-much more than your average escort. It is part of why the tributes often like her, even if they don't always see eye to eye with her. Similarly... friend or foe, the tributes can often present profound truths as well._

**CHAPTER 9: The Careers**

Wes awoke earlier on the 2nd day than he had on the 1st, although when he tried to check on Ava, he realized that she had still beaten him down to the training room given her absence. With that piece of knowledge in mind, he sighed and decided not to skip breakfast after all.

"Top of the morning, to you;" Junichi smiled. Vigo was nowhere to be seen, but there was Jun all sharply dressed in a dark red that matched her lipstick and brought out her vivid red eye color.

"Did Ava come by?" he asked curiously.

"She was here about an hour ago," the escort nodded, "she did eat breakfast as well, however. It's good to know that District 12 has such dedicated tributes this year." She beamed at him, rather proudly.

"Do you think what she's doing is dangerous," Wes asked her again, hoping that she had changed her views since yesterday. This hope was, of course, a vain one.

"The Hunger Games are rank with danger," Jun reminded him, "even the Capitol knows that." It was part of why they always made for such riveting entertainment, though Jun left that part out. "I think that she is doing what she feels is right, and that she has or is learning some skills that she is not showing you or Vigo. Don't cite me on that or anything; you two obviously know more about it than me." She was not even trying to be sarcastic with this remark. The woman just had a streak of humility, after all.

Wes decided to simply nod to indicate that he had heard what had been said, and then quickly finished his breakfast and headed down to the training room.

Sure enough, some of the first people he saw there were Ava and Chel. The latter was teaching the former a bit about how to swing an axe.

"Then you flick your wrist and open your fingers like this to throw it if you ever need to."  
Ava did as instructed, and while her axe fell short of the mark, her style was good.

Wes glanced around the room and noticed that only about three others were there—that boy from District 10 once again, a girl from District 5, and the boy from District 11. He slowly approached Ava and Chel, hoping to get their attention before he actually reached them. Sure enough, he got within 15 feet of them before Chel noticed, and Ava jumped.

"Wes!" she exclaimed, before collecting herself. "uh, hey."

"Hey," he nodded at her before turning towards the taller girl. "Uh, Chel, is it?"  
"The one and only," she cooed. "It's good to see that you're actually willing to talk to me now."  
"Aye, about that;" He lowered his voice. "Do you have a moment?"  
"I've got all the time in the world, hon," she chortled, "Ava, can your brother and I have a moment?"  
"Sure," the smaller girl shrugged, going to retrieve the axes she had thrown.

"I'm curious about one thing—okay, so a lot of things," Wes admitted,

"If you're saying you have curiosities regarding my character as well as my relationship with your sister, then I most likely have the answers you seek." Chel replied.

"I want to know what's going to happen between you and her once we reach the arena."

Chel paused for a moment before answering. "Ah, that is one of the questions that I wish I could answer. It does seem like an unlikely alliance because of our size difference and places of origin, but frankly, I'm not interested in that. I just want to mix things up—throw a wrench in the system, you might say."  
"And does that involve killing me or my sister?"  
"It might; you aren't trying to threaten me, are you?"  
"No; it's just—" he began and shook his head, "Never mind."

"Even if someone throws a wrench into the system, the object of the games is still the same. However, if you want to know what I want at this moment, I'll tell you. I want to become allies with your sister." She purposely left out his name, because she did not know or like Wes the way she liked Ava.

"I want to keep her safe." Wes insisted.  
"The two propositions are not mutually exclusive." Chel reminded him, "Think about it though—you've still got 5 days before you get to kill me."  
"Wait, _get_ to kill you?" he exclaimed, tilting his head again.

"What, you think just because I'm from '2 and you're from '12 automatically means that there's no way you could kill me?" Chel cooed, "If you think like that, you really are nothing more than games fodder."  
"No, it's just—" Wes stammered, "you're clearly strong and fast and have trained for this. I haven't done anything like that, and there's no way my week will match up to your years."  
"Tell me something," Chel looked the boy in the eye. "See that girl over there?" she pointed her finger towards the girl from District 5, "there were thousands of peoples' names put into that lottery, and they don't take tesserae fairly often." She only knew this from talks between Peacekeepers that came and went from District 2.

"So?" Wes tilted his head again, "what's that have to do with anything?"  
"Well, it was a one in a thousand chance that she would get picked—and now here she is. So even if you only have a 1 in 1000 chance of killing me—or perhaps even winning the games—know that it is still on the table. If you give up before you've even started, you're just selling yourself short."

"So why are you telling me this? Are you saying you don't want to win?"  
"I'm saying that you can beat the odds if you really try. It's the biggest thing that I've been telling your sister as well. Well, that and I've been teaching her a little about how to use a weapon. She seems to have some potential with a bow, but you folks seem to like those a lot."  
It was true that a lot of kids from District 12 used bows or hatchets, since they often went out hunting in the woods outside the district. Security was still rather lax in the smallest and poorest district of Panem.

"About that," he glanced over at Ava who was shooting rather haphazardly at first. "Why are you teaching her how to shoot right-handed? Surely you can tell that's not her dominant hand."

"That's exactly why, actually" Chel indicated, "If people watch her and think she's just another poor little kid trying to get by learning how to swing a weapon that she's never even seen before, she's that much less likely to get noticed in the early game and killed off. That, and most tributes, if they have to choose which hand to strike, most will choose the right hand. If in the event that Ava gets attacked, she can proceed to strike with her real dominant hand while her attacker thinks he has gotten the advantage over her. Essentially, I'm setting her up to be a surprise of sorts."  
"You really have all this planned out, don't you?" the boy shook his head. By this time, most of the tributes were showing up, although none of them paid much heed to Wes and Chel as they spoke.

"They teach us more at the academies than just combat, you know." Chel quipped, "Your sister is a rare brand, and I think she deserves a chance."  
Wes suddenly had an epiphany, and changed the subject for the worse. "The time you're making her spend on learning things all over again is time she could be spending honing her skills!"  
"That's true enough," Chel shrugged, "but it's not me forcing her—she asked me to help her."

Wes shook his head. He didn't like the vibe this girl gave off, and worst of all, his sister seemed completely oblivious to all of it, and instead thought that they were friends. Chel talked in riddles that Wes could not understand, and so he shook his head and walked off. His timing was near impeccable, because moments later, right as Chel was returning to Ava shooting a lucky bulls-eye right-handed, Chaco, Lazuli, Iris, and Zaffre appeared.

"You still playing with that kid from '12?" Zaffre looked a bit skeptical.

"I like her," Chel admitted as Ava lowered her bow to listen in. He saw Wes and the boy from District 10 talking about something, but they were much too far away.

"Well, it's only a matter of time before… well, y'know." Iris warned. Ava lowered her head and pretended not to notice, instead going back to trying to shoot as accurately with her right hand as she could with her left.

"The same could be said about any of us," Chel reminded her, ruffling the smaller girl's already wild hair.

The subject soon changed to weapons and combat again, and the career pack, which also seemed to include the boy from '4 and the kids from '3, resumed their training. None of them said anything about Ava, but many of them did seem to keep their eyes on her.


	10. Chapter 10: The Scores

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _I actually went through the trouble of naming each and every tribute myself. This chapter is a little longer than the others, and sheds light on the tribute names, as well as their training scores. However, remember that a training score is still just a number, and has no bearing on how well or how dismally a tribute will perform once they are thrown into the arena. Also, I'm far enough ahead that I can change my posting to every 3 days or so now.__  
_

**CHAPTER 10: The Scores**

The next few days passed in similar patterns to the others. Wes could still not decipher what the careers all thought of Ava, but the girl stayed close to Chel, who seemed to want to protect her. One thing did become clear to Wes during the training—overall, the tributes, including the careers, were generally much more sociable and friendly to each other. He had heard that earlier in the games, even as early as Katniss' time, they were not on such friendly terms. In fact, Katniss even claimed that it happened after the quarter quell when the new training center opened.

Wes' socialization was not without benefits though. He managed to ally himself with the District 11 pair, and they even got along decently well with Ava, but were wary of her because of that towering girl from District 2 that seemed to follow her a lot. He also learned that the boy from District 10, named Rook, had volunteered in place of a friend. Wes sort of hoped that if he or Ava could not win, that someone with an intent as noble as that one would be able to take the victor's crown.

Today was different though. The time had finally arrived for the private sessions between the tributes and the Gamemakers, where everyone got a chance to show off their skills to the judges that they might have kept hidden from everyone else.

"My advice," Vigo told them at breakfast before they were to go downstairs to wait their turn, "is don't hold back—show them your all."

"If you're still so hellbent on impressing the careers," Wes turned to his sister, "now's the time to do it. Show the Gamemakers all you've got, and if you score high, you'll probably appeal to them." He had given up trying to dissuade her from this little ambition of hers, and even Vigo was at a loss. Maybe she could get away with siding with them, even if it was District 2 that had offed his partner years ago.

Ava simply shrugged, and Wes shook his head. "what'd I tell you, Vigo," he turned to the mentor, "she's not easy to communicate with."  
"I can see that." Vigo put his fingers to his chin, scratching the stubble he had there. "But my advice still stands, so you two best be getting ready and head on down there."  
To cut a long story short, soon Wes and Ava found themselves waiting at the end of a long line of tributes. Some were chatty; others leaned against the wall and slept while they waited their turns. Ava simply leaned back and closed her eyes, almost accepting of her fate. Wes shook his head; he couldn't understand that girl sometimes, and he was her brother. If he couldn't understand her, who could?

The line of tributes got smaller and smaller as each one got called in to demonstrate their skills to the Gamemakers. Soon, it was Wes' turn.

"Good luck," he smiled at Ava, "wish me the same."  
Ava actually did wish Wes luck before he entered the training hall. He turned to the Gamemakers before beginning his performance.

Wes displayed decent skill with a sword, and promising skills as a hunter or trapper. He was a fairly decent shot with a bow, although he surely felt that the careers had outdone him. Still, as long as his score was not anything embarrassingly low (like anything below a 4, really), he would be content. After about 15 minutes or so, he was dismissed like all the others, and Ava was called. She would be the one to wrap this all up for her, and Wes gave her a hug before letting her go.

By the time Ava returned to the apartment, Wes and the others were there. They were mostly just biding time till the announcement of training scores came up. Amadeus and Celine dismissed themselves early to go put the finishing touches on Wes and Ava's interview outfits, while the others watched the TV for the upcoming tribute scores. Soon, the announcement had arrived.

"_Ladies and Gentlemen—the training scores of this year's tributes, for the 91__st__ Annual Hunger Games."_  
Wes and Ava watched the screen intently.

"_Zaffre Jade; District 1, with a score of… 10"  
_Neither Wes nor Ava were surprised at this. He was a career tribute, and so of course he'd score high.

"_Lazuli Cohen; District 1, with a score of… 9"  
_Wes had expected her to get a little higher, but 9 was still a very respectable score and was hard to beat.

"_Chaco Haden; District 2, with a score of… 10"  
_These careers were shaping up to be just as dangerous as they were reputed to be. It made Wes worry even more for Ava, although he remained silent for the time being.

"_Chel Colorado; District 2, with a score of… 12"  
_Ava's expression changed to one of awe and amazement, while Wes shook his head. It did not terribly surprise him that the tall girl had scored so high. She seemed proficient at more or less everything she had put her hands to. She would be difficult to bring down.

"_Samuel Fukui; District 3, with a score of… 11"_  
District 3 usually had mid-high scores, since they were usually clever rather than strong. Perhaps this Samuel fellow was a little bit of both. He would definitely be dangerous.

"_Alice Kahn; District 3, with a score of… 8"  
_That seemed more reasonable to Wes, although he was sure she'd still be a formidable opponent.

"_Cress Tallulah; District 4, with a score of… 9"  
_So the diminutive career tributes had done fairly well. He figured his partner would score high too.

"_Iris Durango; District 4, with a score of… 12"  
_He was right, and that didn't bode well. Wes felt it would be a battle between Chel and Iris for the victor's crown. Iris was a rather small girl—young too.

"_Volta Tabris; District 5, with a score of… 6"  
_That was more in what Wes figured would be his range. Then again, the scores were not even necessarily odds of winning—just how much the Gamemakers liked what they had seen.

"_Violet Crossley; District 5, with a score of… 7"  
_He greatest concerns were now over, although there were still plenty more tributes to watch scores for. After all, there was more of a threat than just the careers.

"_Kendryx Morocco; District 6, with a score of… 7"  
_District 6 was always hard to read, as they seemed to march to their own beat. Their tributes were often at least fairly competent though.

"_Candie Rielley; District 6, with a score of… 9"  
_Even Vigo was fairly quiet during these interviews, but a quick glance towards his expression told Wes that he had some things to say when this was all done and over.

"_Lombardi Mason; District 7, with a score of… 8"  
_District 7, much like District 3, might not have been a career district officially, but it usually produced reasonably strong tributes. When Wes saw the girl's score, he reminded himself of this.

"_Magnolia Chang; District 7, with a score of… 11"  
_She'd be a dangerous one—she had outscored three of the four primary careers. With each new score, he seemed to get more pessimistic about his outcome.

"_Roy O'Donnell; District 8, with a score of… 10"  
_Wes shook his head. Was each of them going to score such crazy high numbers? He thought that the 10s, 11s, and 12s were something that only Districts 1 and 2 ever achieved.

"_Wynn Butler; District 8, with a score of… 7"  
_This was one of the only scores that was not terribly above average—it seemed that most of this year's batch of tributes all seemed to have promising potential.

"_Jordan Finkel; District 9, with a score of… 4"  
_Okay, so maybe there would be at least one tribute Wes might be able to outscore.

"_Ashley Ursine; District 9, with a score of… 5"  
_Then again, maybe he was just being hard on himself. He had a tendency to do so; or so said Ava.

"_Rook Jackson; District 10, with a score of… 6"  
_For someone who had volunteered, Wes had expected him to score higher. Then again, maybe he was pulling that trick where he feigned weakness just to turn into a killer in the arena. A lot of tributes from the lower districts did this a lot.

"_Megan Crossland; District 10, with a score of… 5"  
_Perhaps Districts 11 and 12 would be able to provide their usual curve and score above the rest. Wes' mind was dwelling on a lot of these numbers, but as his approached, he grew tenser.

"_Florence Hadley; District 11, with a score of… 8"  
_8 was a decent score—it was often a score career tributes got, even if this year they had all scored rather spectacularly well. Then again, District 11's victors had established themselves as cunning and resilient folks. Maybe that passed on to their tributes.

"_Ginger Sevina; District 11, with a score of… 8"  
_Surely the mentors of these tributes were also rather spectacular at their jobs if they were able to turn simple farmers into masters of combat and survival. Wes was almost envious, though Vigo had done him well, and he was not about to belittle the man. Still, this was his moment—his score was up nexdt, and so he watched the screen without even blinking.

"_Wesley Togisala; District 12, with a score of… 7"  
_Average—he did average. Okay, it was a little above average, which meant that he might have had a little chance. He was currently ranked about 15th or 16th unless Ava outscored him. He imagined that it was fully possible if he was to believe everything that Chel taught her.

"_Aveline Togisala; District 12, with a score of… 5"  
_He turned to his sister almost in disbelief. Whatever she had learned or did had apparently not been very impressive, and he sighed.

"I know what you're going to say," she retorted before Wes could even open his mouth. "Don't say it. I know what I did, and I know what I should have done. There's no taking back the past though."  
Wes shook his head as well. 21st—Ava had taken 21st in terms of scoring. He did not think that it would end well for her, but he politely remained in silence.


	11. Chapter 11: A Deceptive Game

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _And now we learn just what happened to Ava, and a bit of what strategies they are taking. Also, a bit more on the relationship between Vigo and Junichi as well as a bit of other silliness that comes form putting so many colorful characters all in the same room together at once._

**CHAPTER 11: A Deceptive Game**

"What exactly did you do in there?" Vigo turned to the girl as the screen shut back off again. Amadeus and Celine had not returned to dress Wes and Ava up for their tribute interviews later this evening, but Junichi was still there, having watched the whole thing in silence.

"Everything you told me to," she answered, "bows, knives, traps; that whole collection; I gave it my all."

"And somehow, the best you could do was a 5," Vigo exclaimed, "What did you do differently?"

"I tried something Chel suggested." She began,

"Chel has no more Hunger Games experience than you do," Vigo argued, "Ava, I tried giving you a chance; I've tried to get your brother to drill it into your head; but now I've learned the truth. Chel is trying to throw you off. For whatever reason, she thinks you're a threat, and wants that threat reduced."

"Hey!" Ava snapped right back, "Let me finish." She sat down, glaring the mentor right in the eyes. Junichi actually smiled, strangely enough.

"She told me to use my right hand." Ava explained. "If a tribute was attacking you and you had to choose what hand to strike at, which would you choose?"  
Vigo paused for a moment, before realizing Ava's logic.

"Acha, girl; I see your point. That is still a high-risk venture you're choosing though. Just because you can pull a veil over their eyes doesn't mean that you're in the clear."  
"Sorry I snapped at you," she shrugged, "sure, doing things right-handed seems like second nature to most people, and I'm sure it's easy—but not if you're left handed." She lifted her left hand and wiggled her fingers. If she had used her good arm her score would have likely been much higher.

Junichi held out an expecting hand towards Vigo, a confident smirk on her face.

"Jun, you're a terrible woman." He sighed exasperatedly, but both Wes and Ava could tell it was a joke. "Fine, take it." He slapped some money into her awaiting hand. "Not like you Capitol folk need it."

"A bet is a bet and I'm a woman of my word," Junichi retorted, "even if you did lose."  
"What did you bet on?" Wes tilted his head as Ava shoved her hands into her pockets.

"Jun said you were hiding some of your potential, Ava, even after I told you not to," Vigo chuckled a bit himself, "She insisted that you were holding back."  
"I told him that there was no way you were able to gain approval from the career tributes unless you had some moderate skill, Aveline—much more than would warrant a 5." Junichi added, "I don't think any of them except your brother and that Chel girl are aware that you are left-handed."

"Still, that reminds me," Vigo warned, "Ava, be careful around her. Friend or not, she's still dangerous. I do think that District 11 is a safe bet for an alliance, so you should be okay, Wes."  
Wes nodded, "I'm sure they wouldn't turn you away, Ava," he reminded her.

"Now don't go too far" Junichi indicated, "Amadeus and Celine will be returning in a few moments!"

Within 2½ minutes of Junichi saying this, Amadeus and Celine returned.

"We are ready." They gestured for the two siblings to follow them.

Just like last time, Wes and Ava parted ways as he went with Amadeus, and his sister went with Celine. Wes repeated the same ritual that he had last time during the parade, except that he did not need to be operated on like he had been the first time. A room away, Ava was rather grateful for this, because it had rather hurt when Celine had stripped away all of Ava's light body hair, which most citizens of District 12 had simply out of not needed to remove it. This time, she simply stripped naked and washed up, (the colored substances still intrigued the girl, but she knew they wouldn't hurt her), and then followed the stylist into another room, wrapping a towel around herself again.

"don't worry," Celine reassured the younger girl, "these outfits are not like the exotic costumes that you wore in the parade. Just relax and trust me on this one."  
"Whatcha gonna do?" Ava tilted her head as she watched her loose curly hair get transformed the way Celine wanted it to, in preparation for whatever clothing the stylists was going to dress her in.

"I've heard from a reliable source that you are trying to be deceptive." The stylist grinned, guiding Ava onto her feet by her shoulders, where she began applying makeup to the tribute's face, "and so I will help you as well as I can with that ruse."

Celine tied a little white bow into Ava's black hair, before fetching the dress. It was a little black knee-length thing with white lace around the cuffs of the sleeves and around the hems of the skirts. She tied it around in the back to make a bow.

"This," Ava looked skeptical as she saw herself in the mirror, "how is this deceptive?"

"Look at yourself," the stylist chuckled as Ava pulled on some ruffled socks and black shoes. Her hair had been done back into loose, bouncy pigtails, and with all the little lace and bows, combined with her thin frame and smaller-than-average size, Ava could have passed as a 10-year-old.

"Jun told me about what that District 2 girl told you." The stylist whispered, gently massaging Ava's shoulders as she gazed into the mirror to see if there was any other embellishments she should add to the smaller girl. "Tell me—how many people are going to think that a little girl who scored a 5 is going to be any threat? Now, I cannot say that Amadeus and I are any mentors or strategists or whatever else you call them, but I have watched enough Hunger Games myself to know that I would generally overlook someone who did not look threatening."  
Ava decided to refrain from citing Celine's Capitol mentality here, and instead just nodded. "I guess I'll show 'em when I turn this place upside-down." She chuckled.

"Well… you best meet up with the others. We wouldn't want to keep Caesar waiting!"

Ava was ushered out into a hallway, where Wes appeared a few seconds later, also in black, although his was just a simple but sharp suit—very Wes-like indeed. He was a simple young man who was straightforward in his approaches. He was slightly surprised at Ava's appearance. What were these stylists trying to pull?

"You look… adorable?" he raised his eyebrows. "What's with the frills?"

Ava giggled and curtseyed. "They wanted to bring out my childlike side, I guess." She shrugged, "The Capitol apparently likes small children."  
"Yeah, especially when those small children are on the bloody end of a spear," Wes retorted, reminding himself and his sister of the grim reality of these games.

Ava shook her head. "May the odds be ever in our favor then." She indicated, before they went to go join the other tributes as they waited for the interview sessions to start. Wes was fairly sure that Caesar Flickerman was akin to President Coriolanus Snow. There had to be some sort of Capitol technology that was keeping them in prime shape despite their ages. Snow was 92 now, and looked like he hadn't aged a day past 60, while Caesar looked in his late 30s, but had been interviewing tributes ever since the 35th Hunger Games, 56 years ago.

Even though they were the last tributes in line, they were not the last ones to show up. Ava noticed Chel, dressed in a dazzling white gown which contrasted the black skin of her head and hands. She squealed when she saw Ava, and actually had the audacity to give the girl a hug, lifting her straight up from the ground.

"You look adorable!" she laughed, kissing her forehead before setting her down. "I'd swear you weren't a day older than 9 if I didn't know better!"  
"You look quite lovely yourself, Chel." Ava put her hands behind her back, swinging her foot shyly. On her way towards the front of the line behind the District 1 tributes and Chaco, she struck up conversation with the short girl from District 4, making a playfully crude joke that the smaller tribute laughed at. Wes shook his head.

"These tributes are crazy." He whispered to his sister.

"You know," he overheard Florence and Ginger talking with the boy from District 8, "I saw that District 12 mentor placing bets on your district. He had a lot of money riding on you scoring high."

"I'm Roy O'Donnell. Of course I'm going to score high." The boy beamed.

That news came at a slight discomfort to Wes. Vigo was betting on tributes? He had heard that many mentors, both current and retired, did a lot of gambling in the Capitol, but for some reason, to hear that Vigo was also involved felt odd. Perhaps it was just a way for District 12 to include itself with the other districts—something it had trouble doing sometimes.

He dismissed that thought, however, as the fanfare that had been playing for the Caesar Flickerman show ended, and the name "Zaffre Jade" was called to join him on the stage.

Ava simply leaned against the wall, closing her eyes and waiting her turn. This was truly her last chance to appeal to the Capitol audiences.


	12. Chapter 12: Sibling Squabbles

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _One of life's unavoidable truths is that siblings will fight or get into heated arguments. This is a fundamentally unchanged truth that transcends our world all the way to Panem, even when said siblings are tributes about to be thrown into an arena to kill each other. Don't worry-It's not likely that they are going to try and rip each other's throats out first or anything._

**CHAPTER 12: Sibling Squabbles**

Wes and Ava both paid close attention to some of the things that the tributes in front of them said. They would once again be last, but that in turn meant they got to hear what everyone ahead of them said. Zaffre and Lazuli spoke about how they wanted to bring glory and honor to their district, and that the games were just a means to that end. These were the generic career tribute interviews, and so neither of them was too surprised. Chaco's interview was similar, although he also spoke about being swift and effective. These were not terribly comforting words for Wes.

Chel's interview was particularly interesting though, even to the point where Wes was surprised, rather than just Ava. Caesar started out asking her how she felt about being here, to which Chel answered that it felt unusually serene.

"I think that when I'm out in that arena, I'm going to finally find peace."

"I'm sure you'll make it far past the bloodbath," Caesar had an uncanny ability to put a positive spin on just about anything. "and our Gamemakers are quite skilled at making beautiful arenas. Perhaps you'll find a night or two to enjoy the scenery… just don't get too distracted now!"

The audience chuckled with the joke, and Chel simply chuckled, reassuring them that she wouldn't.

"But on another note…" Caesar shifted the subject slightly, "Chel, you were the only one this year who the gamemakers unanimously decided was deserving of a 12. You are the one that they say will control the arena this year. How does that make you feel?"

"It makes me feel influential." Chel shrugged with a chuckle.

"And how will you use that influence? I'm sure the audience is just DYING to know!"

Wes noticed the host's ironic choice of words, but obviously he couldn't say anything or intervene. This was Chel's moment to speak to the Capitol.

"I want to surprise people; maybe do a thing or two that no one would ever expect. You'll get your show… but if you think you've got me figured out," Chel laughed, "you've got another think coming!"

"Excitement; I love it!" Caesar beamed, as the interview continued. Chel was clearly a very popular candidate that would surely be showered with sponsor gifts. Stakes would be high as bets were placed on the outcome of these games.

Soon, Wes heard Caesar state "Ladies and Gentlemen: Chel Colorado; District 2!"

District 3 both talked about how they would be cunning in the arena; and Wes and Ava both agreed with Caesar on that one. They were a particularly devious bunch this year, and it showed through their exceptionally high training scores. Iris promised that she'd help whatever gamemakers didn't think she would get a 12, to change their minds once she was in the arena. The others talked about whatever challenges and stories that Caesar had questions about, but none really stood out till Rook from District 10, who stated that he had volunteered to protect his younger brother. Wes really felt for this older boy, and hoped that he would make it far in the games, especially if he and Ava were both killed, which, considering their scores, was still quite possible, even in the bloodbath.

Both Florence and Ginger from District 11 gave a shoutout to their amazing stylist and mentor teams, and Wes couldn't help but agree with them too. District 11 had had fairly talented stylists for a while now, and they were known for currently having some of the best mentors. Soon enough, it was his turn.

Perhaps it was customary, but the Capitol audiences gave him a round of applause just like they had with all the others, and Wes shook Caesar's hand and sat down.

"So here, ladies and gentlemen," Caesar began, "is the first half of our brother-sister duo from District 12. We've all heard the stories of the siblings who won back-to-back Hunger Games, but what happens when they are both reaped the same year? Let's find out. Life is full of surprises, after all…"

He turned to Wes, and the questioning process began. Wes explained that they were obviously going to watch out for each other come the arena, and hopefully they would manage to battle their way to the end of the games together or something. Caesar, in his typical way of keeping things positive, did not mention the possibility of one of them having to kill the other, but instead simply reminded him that there could only ever be one victor.

"Then I guess we'll have to see whose favor the odds are in." Wes responded, concluding his interview. Caesar gave the audience a certain interested stare, before sounding off Wes' name again, shaking the boy's hand as he stood up. He went backstage again and motioned for Ava that it was her turn.

"You did well," she whispered.

"Thanks," Wes shrugged, "you'll do well too."

"And now we conclude," Caesar spoke softly for dramatic effect as little Ava walked in, "with the final tribute, and the 2nd half of our favorite District 12 siblings." His voice rose as he prepared for the exciting reveal. "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Aveline Togisala!"

The first thing that Caesar pointed out was how adorable Ava looked in her little frilly dress. "Come now… any tribute who saw you wouldn't want to hurt you—they'd probably just want to hug you!" he chuckled. Ava had noticed that he had once again brushed over the fact that tributes did not aim to hurt each other—they aimed to kill each other, and the victor would have to become a murderer him or herself in order to escape the arena trap.

"Well, I think the audience here deserves to see you in that pretty dress." Caesar insisted, "Why don't you get up and show it off a little. Maybe do a couple of twirls…"

Ava stood up and did just that. Sometimes stylists hid special effects into their tributes' interview outfits, but Ava's, as cute as it was, was mundane. The ruffles and her skirts did bounce and fly a little, exposing her knees for a split-second, but otherwise, perhaps they just wanted to see the child spin a little.

Soon Caesar adjusted the subject back around her and Wes, where Ava gave her point of view on the matter. She wound up wrapping up her interview with a few surprising words.

"Caesar," she piped up right before he was able to dismiss her. Caesar Flickerman, keeping his ever-present grin, leaned in.

"I just want to tell you something—I want to tell the entire Capitol something."

"Oh," Caesar leaned in, and the audience leaned forward in their seats.

"There will be a victor's interview a few weeks from now." Ava stated rather resolutely. "And I will be the one sitting on that throne. I know none of you probably believe me right now… but just you wait. Life is full of surprises."

"Well there you have it folks!" Caesar beamed, "this bold, audacious little lady is without a doubt the future victor of the 91st Annual Hunger Games!"

The audience clapped and cheered, although Ava was certain none of them believed her. Why would they, when there were tributes like Chel and Iris on the field? Did Wes believe her? Would he want to believe her? Did she even believe in herself that she could do it?

She departed, and met back up with Wes before they started walking back towards the elevator as the closing fanfare for the Caesar Flickerman Show began to play once again.

"That was certainly interesting…" he quipped, "When did you learn to be so daring?"  
"You'd just chastise me if I told you." Ava looked at the ground as they walked to the elevator. This was enough for Wes to know exactly who it was.

"At this rate, you should have just asked Chel to be your mentor, with how much she's told you." He teased, "Vigo might not have minded the lighter workload."

"Will you leave her alone?" Ava barked,

"I could ask you the same thing!" Wes snapped back as they stepped into the elevator.

"She just told me to stand up for myself," Ava reasoned, "it's good advice, really."

"I still don't get your obsession with that girl." They were heading up to floor 12 now.

"She's my friend!" Ava insisted.

"There are no friends in The Hunger Games, Ava." Wes reminded her as the door opened and Wes stepped out. Ava remained in the elevator for a moment.

"Then what the hell does that make us, brother?" she crossed her arms bitterly, catching a brief glimpse of a startled Vigo, Junichi, Celine and Amadeus, before the doors closed on her.

Wes sighed, joining his team at the table, clutching his head.

"She's gonna get herself killed," he resigned. "She listens to that Chel girl more than she listens to you."

"Well then," Vigo took his hand to look the boy right in the eyes, "if she does die, I better do all I can to get you back home."

"Do you think I can do it?" he asked, "I mean, tomorrow's the big day."

"I'm rooting for you." Vigo answered. "We all are. I heard what you and your sister said as you stepped off the elevator, and… well, she's right. Perhaps it is better to break ties with her now rather than later."

Wes nodded, but the idea itself was still hard to fully stomach.


	13. Chapter 13: The Alliance

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _And thus concludes Part I of the series. Starting with the next chapter, we move into the actual games to finally get to see some of these tributes in action. In the meantime, we get to see a bit more about Ava, and more importantly, some of Chel's inner workings. there is much more to that career girl than meets the eye, after all._

**CHAPTER 13: THE ALLIANCE**

After parting ways with Wes at their floor, Ava continued upwards towards the rooftop, stepping out against the night sky. About 12 or 14 hours from now, she and 23 others would be getting shipped off to fight to the death.

Ava glanced around, and saw only one solitary figure standing by herself a few feet away from her. Further observation revealed this individual to be none other than Chel.

"It's funny how our paths keep crossing, isn't it?" she said softly, still gazing out over the black, illuminated Capitol horizon, her hands behind her back. Like Ava, Chel was still in her interview gown.

"My brother still doesn't trust you," Ava sighed, her tone indicating that it was more of an observation and not a threat of any kind.

"Well, it's his loss then," the taller girl shrugged, "but let's not worry about that. Ava, can I talk about how adorable you are right now? I want to squeeze you."

"You like this dress that much?" the smaller girl tilted her head.

"Yes." Chel replied rather forwardly. "I'm going to hug you again."  
She did not even wait for Ava to respond, and the smaller girl grunted as her feet were whipped from the ground and the air squeezed out of her body.

"Chel…" she groaned, "I… can't… breathe…"

With a laugh, the taller girl set Ava back down, flicking a loose strand of her hair away from her face. "You really do remind me of Gracie."

"Who's Gracie?" Ava tilted her head again.

"She was a girl from District 11 a few years back—tiny little thing; dark skin, curly hair like you, and not a day older than 12½."

"I'm 15 though" Ava pointed out, "even if my stylist dressed me to look 9 or so."

"So what's your story, kid?" Chel asked her suddenly, "What did you do before this?"  
"I mostly just hunted and tried to scrape a living out of District 12," Ava shrugged, "how about you?"  
"My life has always been closely tied to the hunger games." Chel explained, "I knew that this year would be the year that I volunteered for them, so I've basically lived my life for this moment."

"And what then," Ava looked up at the black-skinned girl curiously.  
"That's just it," Chel admitted, "If I win, I have no idea what I'll do with myself. What's a girl to do when she's spent her life preparing for one single event? When that event ends, she's left with nothing."  
"So are you just going to die then?" Ava looked skeptical.

"Of course not," Chel laughed, "I'll play to win or whatnot. If I get remembered, I don't want to be remembered as that high-scoring tribute that got killed in the opening seconds."

"This feels so weird," Ava shook her head. "In a few hours, some of the people in this building will be dead—and others of us will have become murderers."  
"Death happens, as we like to say in District 2," Chel shrugged, "and when the Hunger Games are involved, death happens more."

"That's not a very comforting thought." Ava whimpered.

"It's not supposed to be," Chel reminded her. "but if you can't stand the sight of death, you are going to have a hard time. You said you were a hunter?"  
"Yeah; I killed and cleaned tons of animals; sold a lot of them at the Hob back home."

"The Hob; what's what?"  
"It's kind of like a black market, I guess. I thought you knew everything, Chel." The smaller girl chuckled.

"I only know so much about District 12, little missy." She pinched Ava's cheek playfully, "You have to remember I haven't been there, and also that I am no mentor. I'm just a seasoned girl who has been trained at one of the academies back in District 2."  
"So why did you want to dedicate so much of your time and energy to it only to change your mind now?" Ava tilted her head. It didn't make sense to her.

"Like I said; it was an epiphany I had sometime around last year. Originally I did it for the same reason everyone does it—for fame and glory; for people to revere you and your district for a while."

"But why change your mind at all? Wouldn't you just be able to learn something once you got home? It's never too old to teach someone something. Are you really throwing your life away?"  
"That's what the games are for, kiddo," Chel chuckled, "but no. I've honestly felt that I've lived a full life, and that this is where the efforts of my life come to culminate. If I lose, then so be it, but if I win, I suppose I'll be immortalized or something."

"Glory for your district and yourself; fame; fortune; riches; immunity from the Hunger Games" Ava reminded her, "I can sort of see why some of you stronger tributes might want to volunteer… but where I'm from, volunteering is basically suicide."

"Well, no offense, but your lot does usually die pretty early in the games," Chel pointed out. Ava simply shrugged her shoulders and sighed. Maybe she really was going to die in the opening seconds.

"However," she put her large hands on the small girl's shoulders, "I've got a proposition."

"I'm listening." Ava quipped, looking the larger girl right in the eyes "and hoping that it's not one of those 'do what I say or I kill you first', kind of things.

"Nope," Chel shrugged, "Just a 'join me or I kill you."  
Ava's eyes widened, and she actually recoiled, ready to run. However, Chel was too swift and grabbed her wrist, chuckling again.

"Relax, girl. I'm kidding. What I am proposing, is nothing short of a formal alliance: District 2 and District 12. No one would ever see that coming."  
"What about Wes and… Chaco, was it?"  
"What about them? I'm still District 2 and you're still District 12. Don't worry about the others—well, do; just don't worry about trying to make friends or enemies with them. I'd say that there's no pressure and that I don't have a deadline, but we should probably be getting some sleep soon; if you're too tired to stand upright on your pedestal, you might slip off like that one boy did a few years back."

Ava cringed, remembering that similar to the girl who had dropped the wooden ball, these unfortunate tributes had activated the landmines around their pedestals. Anyone foolish enough to suffer such a horrible fate generally had to be scraped off of the surrounding 80 square feet, as well as off the neighboring tributes.

It was in this moment that Ava came to her conclusion, and she extended her hand.

"I'll do it." She decided. If she was doomed to die, she might as well at least prolong her life by a few days by not getting on Chel's bad side. The rest was up to chance.

"Then may the odds be ever in your favor." Chel hugged the smaller girl again. She seemed very forward with little affectionate gestures like this, but maybe that was just how she treated friends? Ava decided not to think too long and hard about it.

They parted ways, and Ava returned to her room. She changed into some nightclothes and was soon asleep. It had been a long and exhausting day, and it was only about to get worse from here.

Wes on the other hand, just a room away, was lying awake, gazing almost longingly at the scenery from District 12 that he switched on using the projectors the room was equipped with. Vigo had told them to be ruthless tomorrow, and he was not sure that Ava had it in her to be such. He knew that one of them would have to die, but he did not want to watch his sister get mercilessly cut down in the opening seconds of the games.

"_I made a promise." _He told himself, _"One of us is going to return home. District 12 will have a victor this year. If I cannot save Ava, then I have to at least save myself."_

Still, the idea did not sit comfortably with him. In a matter of hours, they would be fighting other children to the death—children who were forced to be their enemies. Truly, they were all just innocent children like him, although many had had their minds molded from an early age into the minds of fighters, warriors, and killers. Would that be his fate if he won? He would inevitably have to come home a killer, but would that be his mindset as well? It was haunting to think about. Tomorrow at this time, probably around half of the children on the floors below him would be dead.

No, he would forgive Ava—he would try to meet up with her; they could worry about the single-victor rule later, but if they survived the bloodbath together, they could formulate a plan on what to do from there. Sometime during this rumination, Wes finally tumbled off to sleep. Tomorrow was truly the beginning of the end…


	14. Chapter 14: Countdown to Death

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _And thus we conclude Part I of this story as the 91st Annual Hunger Games kick off. Someone dies, and thus someone else is already a murderer. The following chapter will cover the rest of the bloodbath as the pandemonium dies down, and we get into the nit and grit of the games from there. Happy reading._

**CHAPTER 14: Countdown to Death**

Wes groaned as he heard someone calling to wake him up. He knew who it was, and while he was able to dismiss the fact that she was likely just following protocol rather than sounding super enthusiastic about it the way she had been the last several days, he was still a bit grumpy. No one; rich or poor, male or female, young or old, good or evil, enjoyed being woken up. In most cases it was just a necessary evil. This was probably the most evil of the necessary evils.

Junichi departed once she noticed Wes was up, and probably went next door to go wake up Ava. As Wes rubbed his eyes and stretched, he noticed that a pile of clothes was set out for him—clearly the uniform for the arena this year. It was fairly simple, as most of them were, simply consisting of dark pants and a jacket that appeared to be water-resistant but also lightweight; and then study boots and a T-shirt. He pulled it all on, figuring that the only thing to differentiate the tributes' outfits (apart from their sizes, which the Capitol clearly had information on), was that Wes' outfit had two bands around the bicep areas of his T-shirt and jacket that bore the number 12.

He stepped out and sat down to eat some breakfast. Obviously his team was fairly quiet, even when Ava came out, dressed almost identically to Wes, except her clothes were obviously smaller to accommodate her smaller frame.

"Don't hold back," Vigo warned as the two tributes ate. He could continue eating after they were gone and being transported to the arena. He, Junichi, and the stylists would be able to eat more while they watched the games. Wes and Ava would not be so fortunate.  
"Anything you can do, do it. Everything that happens once you get into that arena is just a means to an end. There is no one judging you. They aren't going to care how you win—just THAT you win."

Ava gave Vigo a look of understanding which Wes also mimicked.

"I'm rooting for you." Junichi said softly; the escort lady had always been fairly down-to-earth, but this time she sounded genuinely humble and concerned. Wes remembered that she had briefly mentioned that she had lost a child of her own, and so perhaps that was why she sympathized a bit more with them. She was easily the most popular Capitol citizen back in District 12, which was part of why the Capitol allowed her to stay there—it gave them good publicity if its citizens and the citizens of one of Panem's districts were able to foster some sort of relationship.

Soon, however, breakfast came to an end, and it was just a few minutes of tense waiting before there was a knock at their door. No one answered it, because a moment later, a pair of Peacekeepers appeared. Ava and Wes both looked a little startled, but then realized what they were there for. They were just here to ensure that the tributes arrived at the hovercraft without incident. Surely there had been one or two years when a kid probably tried to make a run for it.

As they got up to leave, Amadeus and Celine both did the same, but took a different route. Wes turned to Ava and gave her a brief hug.

"Let's try and meet up," he suggested, "If nothing else, I want to try and make amends for how I've been acting over the last few days. I love you, Ava."  
"I love you too, Wes. We can maybe talk more on the trip to the arena."  
With a nod, the two siblings followed the Peacekeepers, who escorted them to the hovercraft without event. There were 24 seats, but they were divided into two rows across from each other—boys to the left, and girls to the right. Ava and Wes sat across from each other, with Wes finding himself seated between Florence and Volta, while Ava found herself next to Candie and Alice. She glanced towards the end of the row and saw Chel at the far end, seated next to Ginger. It was unusually silent as the tributes fastened themselves in, and Peacekeepers came around instructing them to hold up their arms. Iris, who was the first tribute approached, held out her arm. The peacekeeper pushed her sleeve up a little before jabbing something into her arm—the trackers. As bad as these sounded, they were more so that the Gamemakers would know where to focus the cameras. There were forcefields around the boundaries of the arena that would prevent escape, or would fry tributes on the spot if they were misfortunate enough to walk into it.

Soon every tribute's right arm was equipped with a tiny tracker. It didn't hurt at all, or even draw any blood, and so it was rather eventless after that.

Wes wasn't sure how long the trip had lasted, but eventually, he could tell that the hovercraft was landing and coming to a stop. Most of the other tributes seemed rather calm about it. Some of the lower-scoring ones seemed a bit nervous, while the careers and other higher-scoring tributes seemed pumped and ready to go. Ava, whom Wes was watching with curious interest, remained calm and stoic, not betraying even a hint of emotion on her face about how she felt. Soon the craft came to a stop, and the tributes were filed out one by down into an underground chamber where they were each taken to separate rooms. Wes noticed that there was a glass tube on one side of his little room, and that waiting for him there was none other than Amadeus. Perhaps Celine was with Ava.

"I can't keep you for long," the purple-haired stylist warned, "but I do want to give you this. Celine has the one for Ava."  
He handed Wes the orange bracelet that had the sun pattern on it. In another room in these same catacombs, Ava was being handed the same purple, moon-patterned bracelet that his mother had given her before the train.

"Do good out there," he took Wes' hand, "we're all rooting for you."  
Wes shuddered slightly, but embraced Amadeus for a moment before walking towards the tube, which closed around him. There was no turning back now. A few moments later, presumably after every tribute was in place, the tubes began to rise, and Wes found himself squinting as the brightness of the arena set in around them.

In front of him was the cornucopia that graced the center of their semicircle. Glancing around and he realized that they were on a large plateau, surrounded by a circular valley, with incredible mountain vistas each way he looked. To his left was Cress from '4, and to his right was Magnolia from '7. He saw Ava towards the far right of the semicircle, with Zaffre on her left and Roy on her right.

Moments later, there was a voice, and it shook Wes to the core.

"_Sixty… Fifty-Nine… Fifty-Eight…"_

This was it—the countdown to the end of potentially his life, Ava's life, or the lives of any of the other 22 children that graced the semicircle around the large golden cornucopia. He glanced around and saw plenty of supplies and backpacks, and he tried to gauge what would be the most useful for him. Of course, weapons were everywhere, because if there was one thing that the cornucopia would always have (and sometimes only have) it was weapons. He briefly thought back to Katniss' games 16 years ago, where the cornucopia had only been supplied with weapons. Luckily that was not so this time.

"_Nineteen… Eighteen… Seventeen…"_

Ava's eyes met with Chel's briefly, and the taller girl nodded. He glanced over at Wes, who had not noticed, and tried to get his attention without moving too much. If she slipped, they'd be scraping her off of Roy and Zaffre, as well as a large area of land.

Wes saw Ava and gave her a reassuring nod. They would make it out of this bloodbath together, and then they would figure out what to do from there. They could still be a team. They had been a team all their lives; the little brother-sister pair that had been nigh-inseparable since Ava was brought into this world. Now, here they were with a clock counting down the seconds that some of these children had left to live, before the final, heart-pounding words were heard.

"_Three… Two… One…"_

A loud gong-like noise sounded through the air, and the landmines around the pedestals had deactivated. Most tributes wasted no time.

Wes noticed Ava sprint forward. She had always been a swift little thing. What surprised him even more was that she instantly got into a fight with a boy from District 9 over a fancy-looking dagger with a lion's head on the hilt, and a red velvet handle. It surprised him even further that Ava struck the boy with a left hook, causing him to relinquish his grip on the dagger, which she instantly plunged into his chest. His sister was now a murderer.

However, there was no time to dwell on that. Briefly surveying the surrounding area for no more than a split-second, he chose his course and zigzagged straight towards the cornucopia.

The 91st Annual Hunger Games had begun.


	15. Chapter 15: The Bloodbath

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**-_Thus begins part 2, and perhaps what everyone has been waiting for. Let the 91st Annual Hunger Games begin._

**PART II: THE GAMES**

**Chapter 15: The Bloodbath**

Ava made a beeline for the cornucopia, scooping up a backpack in the meantime. One piece of advice she had taken from Vigo was that everything she did here was just a means to an end. She was not worried about the fact that everyone in Panem had just watched her murder another innocent boy. She was more worried about preserving her own life. Chel passed by her and picked up a massive double-bladed battleaxe with golden-patterns on the handle near the blades. It almost appeared dwarven in its design, but it wasn't like Ava would know that. She watched as Chel put an axe through that District 10 boy that Wes had befriended, while Zaffre, Iris, and Chaco were chasing other tributes away from the cornucopia and down the sides of the mountain.

Then it hit her—Wes! Where was he? She couldn't just stay hiding in the cornucopia for hours while there was all this bloodshed and carnage around her. Besides, if she had the idea to hide in here among all the crates and supplies, who was to say that another much larger and stronger tribute wouldn't come and cut her down when she had nowhere else to run?

Ava bounded back outside to see Chel still commanding the opening of the golden horn. She noticed Ava, and immediately shouted "DUCK!"

Ava ducked as a javelin whizzed over her head, sinking itself into a girl behind her. As she noticed this, she also saw a bow and a quiver full of arrows—that was what she wanted, and so she darted for them, snatching them up before surveying the place one more time. The other career tributes were coming back, heading towards them, with Cress from District 4 leading them.

Ava had already established herself as a rather bold and audacious tribute, and so she figured that it was time to burn the bridge that she knew had never been there. It was time to piss off the careers.

Ducking behind a crate, she waited until they were closer, an arrow nocked and loaded in her bow.

Suddenly, she sprang up, letting her arrow fly. It struck Cress squarely in the chest and knocked him down, where he stopped moving. The others froze in a brief moment of shock. Even Chel looked rather surprised that little Ava from laughingstock District 12, who had scored only a 5, had just offed a powerful career tribute who had scored a 9.

For a split second, the careers glanced at Ava and then at Chel. Suddenly, they charged again.

"Do we run?" Ava exclaimed. She would find Wes later—she figured that he had run into similar problems, only that he had probably run instead of killed.

"YES, YOU FOOL!" Chel's eyes widened as she took off with Ava down the side of the mountain. They had rather fancy footwork, but the careers were still on their tail, namely Chaco and Iris.

Ava had always considered herself fairly fast, but Chel was still slowly passing her. She was about to call out, but Chel seemed to read her mind.

Ava squealed, feeling her legs get whipped out from under her, and she was in Chel's arms again all of a sudden. She swung the smaller girl around onto her back. "HOLD ON." She commanded, and she suddenly took off running even faster, despite now having another tribute on her back.

"Y'know," Chel quipped as she sprinted with Ava on your back, "It's a good thing you're just a little 4'9" 90-pound kid instead of some 6'5" colossus." She had apparently read some Capitol data on Aveline's height and weight.

"Why's that?" Ava asked, before realizing exactly what Chel would say next.

"Because you're a hell of a lot easier to carry this way," she responded rather predictably.

Chaco and Iris were persistent in their pursuit against the other two girls, but Chel seemed to know what she was doing as she zigzagged through the trees and around the rocks.

"Where are we going?" she asked, glancing behind her to see the others still in hot pursuit.

"Away from them of course," Chel warned, "just hold on!"  
Eventually they stopped, coming across a large dropoff that led to a river below. They were cornered, and Chaco and Iris were closing in.

"You made bad choice, choosing her over us, Chel." Chaco warned, "just throw her off. We'll give her a chance to run before we have at her like we did with her brother."  
Wes! No, they were lying. They had to be.  
"You lie!" Ava snapped. "Chel, let me down. Let's fight 'em."  
"You don't want to be doing that." Iris recommended, twirling a knife in her hand.

"She's right, Ava," Chel nodded in agreement, stepping backwards and keeping her grip on the battleaxe she was holding, "Now hold on tight and get ready to hold your breath!"  
Ava gripped Chel's shoulders tighter, and realized too late that the girl had spun around and just jumped off of a cliff towards a large, deep river below. Ava shrieked, but took a deep breath as they plunged beneath the water. Chaco and Iris both looked at each other and then shook their heads, turning around and back up the mountain. They would secure the cornucopia and wait until the others were drawn back to them.

The river was fast, and Ava felt herself being separated from Chel as they were pulled under by the below-surface currents. She gripped the knives she had seized from the cornucopia but she realized that she needed air, and needed air quickly. Briefly, images of her mother and Wes entered her head. One was definitely on the edge of her seat, and the other would surely be horrified if he saw her now. No, this was still the first day—Wes and Ava were stronger than that. Ava fought against the current as strongly as she could, but only got a small breath of air before she was sucked under again.

Her memory was hazy as to what happened next, but when she woke up, she found her body completely numb below the waist, and she was soaking wet. The fact that it was raining and the sun appeared to be setting did not help her situation any. She was shivering fairly badly at the moment.

Shifting her tense muscles, she realized that the knives she had strapped to her waist were still there, and slowly, the feeling in her legs came back. She slowly pulled herself to her feet, shaking herself off, before collapsing again just feet away from where she had gotten up. She glanced around and knew immediately that she was lost. All she could see was mountains all around her, and they all looked the same. She had mixed feelings about her current situation. On one hand, she was alone, but on the other, that meant that Chel was gone.

She was shivering though, and it was getting dark, which in turn meant that in this mountainous landscape, it would get colder, even if she was in the valley. She had to find shelter—or someone like Chel or Wes to help her. Weighing her options, she decided that she'd sooner freeze to death than be found, so she called out "CHEL!"

Maybe Wes was right. Perhaps Ava would rather have a powerful career tribute on her side than her own brother. How was she supposed to know where Wes was right now though? He was probably still waiting for her at the cornucopia, expecting to see her name and face in the sky tonight when they revealed the identities of the fallen.

Ava took a few deep breaths and eventually pulled herself to her feet. She kicked her shoes and socks off, deciding to continue her trek barefooted. Hopefully nothing in her backpack was perishable, because it too was soaking wet. However, it trapped heat between it and her back, which kept her slightly warm, even if it was drenched to the core.

She trudged a few hundred yards down the river, and there on a soft sandy clearing, was Chel's body, motionless and on its side, washed up on the bank. Ava scrambled towards her as fast as her shivering little body could carry her, and knelt beside her to check the girl's pulse. Chel was alive. That meant that the deathgrip on that intricate and finely crafted battleaxe was real, and not _rigor mortis_ setting in.

In her excitement, she accidentally dropped the dagger, which was now free of blood thanks to all the water. This had been the weapon that Ava had first killed another human being with, and suddenly, she saw herself with what most tributes would call a golden opportunity. Here was the opportunity to kill the most powerful and influential tribute of the 91st Hunger Games; Chel had practically been delivered to Ava on a golden platter. Sure the girl had been nice, but there could only be one victor, and if somehow she and Chel made it to the final two, she knew she wouldn't last more than 59 seconds against the much larger girl.

Hesitantly, she lifted the dagger, her mind racing. However, anyone expecting another kill was in for a disappointment. Ava resolutely sheathed the dagger, leaning against the larger girl. Death would have to wait—Ava wanted to keep her ally. Chel was still alive, but it made her wonder—where was Wes?


	16. Chapter 16: Faces in the Sky

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _In the which we learn a few things about Chel's mentor. Many of you will probably recognize her, for she was a victor in this version of the story. Also, any questions or concerns regarding who died in the bloodbath can now be resolved-for we learn their names here._

**Chapter 16: Faces in the Sky  
**

After a few minutes, Chel groaned, and slowly began to stir.  
"oooh…" she moaned, "my head… mm… who's that?" she smacked her lips, rolling onto her back before rubbing her eyes, and seeing Ava crouched over her.

"Oh hey… I remember you. You're that cute little kid from '12…"  
"Are you okay?" Ava exclaimed, feeling relieved that Chel was alive.

"Considering that I jumped 40 feet from a cliff into a raging river of death while carrying a battleaxe, a backpack, and another tribute, and then was sucked into numerous eddies and undertows before getting spat out on this here sandy bank… I'm doing fantastic." Chel quipped weakly, "how about you, kid? You look cold."

"I'm freezing." Ava whimpered, deciding that there was no reason that she should lie to the larger girl. This was not out of fear, but out of trust.

"Well then, let's get out of the rain." Chel chuckled, "it's getting dark anyways, and surely the anthem will start playing soon."  
Ava nodded, and was both nervous and intrigued about it. She would find out who was dead, how many were left (by subtracting how many were killed of course), and who she still had to watch for. Most importantly, she would see if Wes had survived. She was still quite worried about him, but there was nothing she could do. Even Chel admitted that she had no idea where the two girls were, and so she was just surveying the landscape through the drizzling rain.

They began heading up a mountain, only stopping as Chel pointed out a cave in the distance.  
"You think you can make it there, kid?" Chel turned to face Ava, noticing that the smaller girl was shivering so hard that she seemed to be shaky on her own two feet.

The District 2 girl sighed. "I'll take that as a no. up you go." She hoisted Ava up onto her back and trudged up the mountain till they reached the cave. It was not too much warmer, but it was dry. Chel intended to change the warmth part. She leaned Ava's soaking wet and limp form against some rocks, and then went outside to forage for some firewood that was not soaked through and through. She had limited daylight left, so she was fairly quick about it. However, right as she was about to re-enter the darkening cave, something nearly hit her on the head—a parachute. She squinted, unable to make out if the number on the side was a 2 or a 12 until she caught it. It was a 2. She was sort of surprised to receive a sponsor gift so early, but then again, the Capitol had hyped her up to be the most popular tribute of this year's games, so she figured that had something to do with it. All that was in it was a box of matches and some fire starters—but that was all she needed. She squinted, barely making out the details of a small note attached to it.

"_Show 'em how it's done; There can only be one master of the arena." –C–_

C… so that was Clove then; She was an interesting figure. There had been two other victors from District 2 since the 74th Hunger Games that she had won, but she had volunteered in place of one of them, because she had wanted to mentor Chel.

Clove had been a very unstable girl throughout the games, and it did not get any better after she emerged the victor. Perhaps thanks to an influence in District 6, she took up a morphling habit with many of the others, which generally kept her rather tranquil. The truth of the matter was that she was something of a wreck without it, which Chel found somewhat tragic. When she was on it, however, she was fairly amiable and laid-back. Her primary concern this year had been to see Chel and Chaco lay as much smackdown on the other tributes as was reasonably possible, and so she didn't really care about alliances either. The District 12 girl that Chel was with was simply something the mentor chose to overlook rather than worry about. Besides, everyone figured that if Chel and Ava made it to the end of the games, that Chel would simply off Ava in one move, and win the games.

"Ava," she called out as she stepped back into the cave, "I've got some stuff." She gathered some rocks to build a fire pit, and used those new matches and fire starts to start a little blaze.

By the time Ava regained consciousness, there was a nice roaring little fire there, and the entrance of the cave had been built up with rocks to cover the entrance up a bit more, and it was significantly warmer than before. Also, she noticed that Chel was in her undergarments.

"Where's your clothes?" that was definitely the oddest part of the current scenario. Chel simply pointed to a little stick structure where they were draped over, presumably to dry.

"If you wanna dry yours out, I promise I won't laugh." She joked, "it's better than walking in wet clothes, and don't even get me started on the shoes."

"I took mine off back at the river," Ava chuckled sheepishly, also just realizing this fact, "Too late to go back and get them now."

"You gonna be alright without 'em?"  
"Sure; people go barefooted in District 12 all the time." Ava shivered again. "and I'll take up your offer on the clothes thing…"  
Wordlessly and slightly shakily, Ava stripped to her undergarments as well, using the heat of the fire to attempt to dry her clothes.

"So did you build all of this?" she glanced at the fire, the makeshift sleeping pads (which were mostly just piles of pine needles and grass under a tarp spread out on the rocky floor), the clothes 'rack', and the little rock wall that graced the entrance of the cave.

"It wasn't that hard," Chel shrugged, "the fire starters were sponsored, but you were asleep by the time I had gotten them."  
Ava was definitely feeling warmer at this point, and she was extremely grateful that she had found such a mysteriously loyal ally in Chel Colorado; the girl from District 2.

"Oh, I checked you bag too while you slept," the taller girl piped up, "You got some packaged food that didn't spoil, some rope, a water filter, a few throwing knives, and a tarp that I used for the bedding over there." She indicated the black material over top the dry leaves, grass, and pine needles. "If you don't want to share it, that's what I get for not asking, I guess; haha."

Ava glanced at the tarp—it was easily large enough to fit both her and even Chel.

"Are you serious," she tilted her head, "after everything you've done for me, do you really think I wouldn't share a single tarp?"

"Well, you could kill me if you wanted," Chel tossed Ava her dagger, which was sheathed away. "I kept that safe for you too."  
"Why would I want to kill you?" Ava looked skeptical.  
Chel simply laughed, "It's the Hunger Games, kiddo. That's what you do in 'em."

"You know that's not what I meant!" Ava exclaimed, "why would I kill you when there's at least a dozen others that want us both dead?"  
"Heh, fair enough; I'm just messing with you anyways, Ava. Let's go see if they're going to play that anthem anytime soon."  
"But, our clothes..." Ava protested

"Oh, I forgot to tell you, Ava." Chel quipped, "Iris, Roy, and Magnolia are behind those rocks waiting to kill us, so we should at least make sure we're modest before we meet them, eh?"  
Ava just stared at the career girl skeptically.

"In other words, relax, kiddo. No one's going to see us."  
She had hardly finished saying that when the anthem of Panem started playing. Chel hummed along with it for a while before it faded. The sky had cleared by this time, and so Chel and Ava peeked out of their cave to see who had died and who had survived. Ava already knew a few who had died, because she had killed two tributes herself.

A few years ago, the Capitol had changed the way they showed the fallen bloodbath tributes. Originally they were shown by district, but now they were shown by the order they had been slain in. Both Chel and Ava fell silent, the brisk air against their bare skin being something they ignored during this suspenseful moment. Eight cannons went off, and the first portrait appeared a moment later.

_Jordan Finkel, District 9… _

_Ashley Ursine, District 9…_

"Wow; both from '9 ate it first? That's pretty harsh…" Chel quipped.

_Rook Jackson, District 10…_

So much for the boy's valiant effort to protect the kid he volunteered for.

_Volta Tabris, District 5… _

_Wynn Butler, District 8…_

_Megan Crossland, District 10… _

_Cress Tallulah, District 4…_

So there were still two more tributes that had died after Ava had killed Cress. There was no way she would have seen, for by this time she and Chel were fleeing from Chaco and Iris.

_Candie Rielley, District 6…_

Ava didn't know anything about that girl, and so she chalked up the losses as none too significant—until the last one appeared. The final face in the sky struck Ava like a javelin to the heart.

_Wesley Togisala, District 12__…_


	17. Chapter 17: A Grasping Truth

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _Obviously Wesley is in fact dead. It's a subtle shout-out to something else, although it is not really relevant in the rest of the story or anything. Since Ava becomes the center of focus from here on out, we are also going to learn a whole lot about Chel. Isn't to say the girl can't concoct her own lies and stories, but maybe she's telling the truth._

**CHAPTER 17: A Grasping Truth**

Wes had failed; he had failed to keep his promise to bring himself home; he had failed Ava's request to do so. Ava had been the one that had been willing to sacrifice herself, but Wes was supposed to survive until then so that it would happen. But no, he goes and adds insult to injury by dying on the first morning. Those damned careers had been right about him. During his attempt to escape the cornucopia, Iris had put a scythe through him, ending his life rather quickly.

Chel put a hand on Ava's shoulder; the girl seemed to still be in shock.

"We'll win this thing, you know," she told the smaller girl softly, "I'll do everything in my power to make it happen."

"And what if that's not enough?" Ava sighed,

"Then we die; simple as that." Chel shrugged, "but I want you to understand this, Ava. If you're giving up already, I'll go give you that dagger and you can finish the job. If you want to stick with me, I'll bring you home, and you'll get to see your mother again."

"You know there can only be one victor, right?" Ava turned to the larger girl, her eyes red.

"I never implied that there wasn't." Chel shrugged again.

"But if I win, that means you have to die."  
"And I've offered you plenty of opportunities to kill me if you so desire."  
"But that doesn't make any sense! What is wrong with you?"  
"Nothing is wrong with me, Ava, but I can see you're starting to catch on. You see, I don't have any interest in winning the 'games."

"What!?" Ava exclaimed, "you're kidding right?"  
"I'm not kidding." Chel shook her head calmly.

"Then why are you still here? Why did you volunteer?"

"I have been literally training my whole life for this moment, Ava." Chel explained, "I was never even formally taught my district's industry. For 18 years I worked to become the mightiest Hunger Games tribute the Capitol had ever seen. If I win, what do I do then? It's not like I'll ever need to fight or kill people ever again. I'll just be a useless schmuck that has no idea what to do with herself. Even if I wanted to become a Peacekeeper, they wouldn't let a victor do that. We're not allowed to put our lives at risk like that. See, Ava, Peacekeepers are mostly just wannabe volunteer tributes that never got the chance to compete in the games. That's why many of them are so ruthless. In other words, we here in District 2 kind of think of them as a laughingstock, especially the victors."  
"But don't you want to join those victors? You don't want the fame or fortune or glory?"  
"Ha, District 2 has so many victors that no one pays attention to them anymore." Chel lied, though she was correct about her district having the most victors. "Think of the story we could create though—the little girl from District 12 who won the games; the District 2 girl who was willing to sacrifice everything to make that happen."

Ava froze for a moment, turning to look Chel in the eyes. "You would really… sacrifice everything?"

"What can I sacrifice worth more than my life?" Chel shrugged, "I want you to go home, Ava. I want you to live. I don't care what you do with me or my story—you can tell everyone that I was a creepy stalker that you put up with till the end of the games and then you shot me, if that floats your boat. But frankly, I think it's about time someone went and turned these games upside-down."

"Is that what you meant in your interview?" Ava tilted her head.

"That's exactly what I meant in my interview. I wanted to do something no one would expect."

Ava stared at the woman in front of her with an expression of surprise. Chel offered her hand with a smile, which Ava took.

"Welcome aboard," Chel grinned, "now let's sit back over that fire. Maybe our clothes are dry now." They weren't yet, but the two tributes did end up rummaging through their supplies to find water bottles that they could fill up with some of the rainwater from outside.

"So do you have any idea where we are?" Ava asked, letting some of the delightfully cool liquid glide down her throat as Chel did the same.

"We're in a Hunger Games arena." Chel answered playfully, "The 91st one of its kind, I believe."

"Well yeah," Ava rolled her eyes, though a smile plastered her visage, "but where in the arena are we? Do you know?"  
"How would I know?" Chel laughed, "You came around before I did. Your guess is as good as mine. The problem then is that it also leaves about 14 other tributes unaccounted for, and something tells me that at least 6 of them are allied with each other."  
"Six!?" Ava exclaimed, "I thought it was just 1, 2, and 4—and you're here with me, and I killed Cress."  
"I think they drafted District 3 this year," Chel pointed out, "I'm not positive, but they didn't seem to attack each other during the bloodbath. Every now and again the career pack will pull a District 3 tribute into their ranks, often times more commonly than District 4."

"Acha," Ava shook her head, taking the word from Vigo, "We've got our work cut out for us then."  
"Well, I think that I still scare the piss out of 'em, so we can use that to our advantage. What weapons are you good with?"  
"I'm okay with knives, but I prefer the bow. I used to use one back home." Ava answered.

"Then we need to find the cornucopia and get you a bow, girl." Chel insisted, "Not tonight though, and definitely not in our smalls. Let's get some rest. I'm fairly certain no one is going to find us here, and tomorrow we can do stuff—maybe find out where this river took us."

"Alright," Ava nodded, before looking back up at the District 2 girl. "Chel?"  
"What's on your mind, Ava?" Chel shrugged,

"Thanks;" Ava sighed, "Thanks for sticking with me."  
"Like I said," the black-skinned girl shrugged, "I've got plenty of reasons for doing what I'm doing, even if they don't all make sense. However, one thing I can say truthfully and clearly is that I like you, and that I hope you win the games this year. Your mother deserves to at least see one of her children again, especially since her eldest is already in some Capitol hovercraft somewhere."

Ava did not reply, but she put her arms around the larger girl. Part of her was still admittedly shocked that she had bonded so closely not only with a tribute from District 2, but with the tribute that the entire Hunger Games community unanimously agreed was the strongest and most dangerous tribute in this year's games.

A few minutes later, their clothes were mostly dry, so they both dressed again and Chel put out their fire, before the two girls lay down on the small tarp-bed Chel had made. Initially, they slept apart, but sometime during the knight, Ava woke up shivering, even though it was not terribly cold, so Chel pulled her in and wrapped herself around the smaller girl, which put Ava at peace and she slept for the rest of the night in tranquility.

Ava woke up before Chel, and found herself wrapped in the girl's arms. It was not constricting; in fact it was rather warm. Maybe the storm had been what had cooled off the mountain.

For a moment, Ava lay there, contemplating everything about her life right now. Her brother was dead. 24 hours ago, they were getting up and were saying their goodbyes to their team. They had hugged each other one last time. Wes, who had always been there for Ava, was now beyond her reach. 24 hours ago, they were waking up from luxurious and comfortable Capitol beds. Now, here she was, becoming close friends with a woman that would soon have to die if she ever wished to see her mother again. Here she was in the Hunger Games, where it was kill or be killed. Already Ava had shown herself to be a killer, having offed the boy from District 9, and even the powerful boy from District 4. Chel had done in at least three others, which meant that Wes and the other two had probably been killed by the careers. Ava wanted to find out who did it, and she wanted to kill them personally. She did not necessarily want to make them suffer—she just wanted to do them in the way they had done her brother in.

She squeaked as she felt something against her back, but it was just Chel shifting. She shrieked when she felt something bite her neck, and shouted "CHEL!"

Chel jolted awake, shaking her head. "damn; did I bite you on accident?"  
"Should I even ask what was going on?" Ava threw her black waves to one side to show a pinkish mark on her otherwise brown neck.

"Sorry 'bout that," the larger girl shrugged, "but hey. We're up and about now, eh? Let's get moving before something or someone decides to make a meal out of us."

Packing up camp did not take long at all, and soon the two girls were on their way.


	18. Chapter 18: The Arena

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _So it does start out a little slow as Ava and Chel get to know each other, their surroundings, and what they are up against. However, the Capitol interferes if there is not enough action, and so do not fear. I've finished the rest of Part 2, and can promise that there is plenty of action coming up._

**CHAPTER 18: The Arena**

"So tell me something," Ava turned to the larger girl as the two tributes trekked across a mountainside. They had climbed rather high up, and got a rather incredible view of the valley below them.

"We're on a mountain." Chel replied.

"Smartass," Ava rolled her eyes, "you know what I meant. Tell me about that girl and the bet."

"Girl and a bet," Chel tilted her head, "I heard one of the mentors and a Capitol lady had a bet over one of the tributes. Was that you?"  
Ava chuckled, remembering Junichi and Vigo. "As a matter of fact, it was my escort and my mentor! They were betting over me."  
"What did they bet over?" Chel raised a curious eyebrow as they walked

"Well, Junichi thought I had been holding back in my private session, and Vigo didn't believe her. I told them I did, and so Vigo lost the bet."  
She paused, "but on the rooftop the first night we met—you mentioned you liked me and that it had to do with a girl and bet. What was that about?"

"I had a younger sister—she was 15 when she went in." Chel explained, "I definitely got the tall gene in my family, because my sister was only a little taller than you. I don't mean to offend you, Ava, but you are really tiny."

"I know," Ava murmured, "I'm fairly certain I was the smallest one there."  
"I checked." Chel chortled, "You were. The next shortest kid was 5'0"."

"Anyways, I asked about the girl; not about my lack of vertical prowess." Ava insisted.

"See, girl, this is why I like you. You're promising; you're forward. You know what you want and you work to get it. If your district produced more tributes like you, they would go far." Chel squeezed the smaller girl's shoulder, stepping over a large flat rock, "anyways I digress. My sister and I made a bet that she'd be able to survive the bloodbath. She did so rather easily, but she wound up placing 6th in the 'games. It made me forget much more about my stupid bet and reminded me that 2nd place is just first loser. However, I watched it again and again and realized what she lacked."  
"What did she lack?" Ava tilted her head. This was a curious story, and the calm way in which Chel was telling it was intriguing as well.

"Fortitude," Chel answered, "our bet was stupid—simple as that. My sister lacked the fortitude you do. She was not the type to directly tell people what she was doing or how she felt. You on the other hand: if you're not straightforward with someone, you're trying to deceive them, and you do a damn good job at it. That's one of the many reasons I think you have a chance. Well, and because of that." She pointed up at the sky where a parachute—a sponsor gift of some kind— was floating down towards them. Chel caught it because of her height, but handed it to Ava.  
"It's for you." She explained, "They don't identify you by name; just by district. Luckily that doesn't usually cause a problem, because enemy district partners are not usually together, while allied ones end up sharing whatever's in it anyways. You though—this is definitely for you."

Ava glanced at the package, which was marked only with a black number 12. She frowned, for the number, combined with Chel's words, reminded her that her brother was dead. Still, there was no point in dwelling on it, and so she opened the package. Out fell a rather solid-looking compass.

"That… actually seems rather helpful." Chel quipped, "at least now we'll know where the hell we are versus where the hell we're going."

Ava did not respond, but was reading a slip of paper that had come with it.

"_I underestimated you. I guess I let my grudges against District 2 get in my way. Stick with her, kid. You've got yourself a powerful ally. –V"_

"It seems my mentor's apologizing for what he said about you," Ava chuckled, handing the slip of paper to the taller girl, who read it and chuckled.

"well, I'm sure if we wanted to kill each other we would have done it by now," Chel laughed, "we've been together for about 24 hours now and neither of us have had terribly high defenses."

Ava glanced up at Chel again. "Chel?"

"What's up?" according to Ava's compass they were heading south, still on the mountainside.

"So what happens if it does come down to you and me?" she obviously sounded concerned, for she was fairly sure that in a one-on-one, Chel would do her in within 3 seconds.

"Well," Chel glanced up at the sky, "if it comes to that… let's just say you will not be misfortunate as you think. It's far too early to be worrying about that though, Ava. There are 16 of us left."

Chel's words were not terribly comforting, but Ava decided to shake it off.

They walked for about 2 hours without any success at finding anything but more rocks and trees, with the occasional creek.

"I think we need to scale the mountain." Chel suggested, glancing west and towards the peaks.

"I'm surprised you don't want to go back down." Ava shook her head, "Look how steep this is."

"I've climbed a lot of rocks in my day," Chel chuckled, "it's easier to go up than down, and then we'll have a vantage point if anyone somehow finds us in this distant corner of the arena."

Ava seemed hesitant, and Chel looked down, noticing the smaller girl was barefoot.

"These rocks cutting your feet open or something," she tilted her head.

"No," Ava shook her head, "it's just that you're right. Look at those cliffs—and I'm tiny."

Chel crouched down in front of Ava. "Get on my back. I'll haul you ass up this mountain or die trying."

"Are you serious?" She seemed more surprised than anything.

"I told you I know my rocks, girl." Chel laughed, "These aren't cliffs anyways—just kind of steep mountains. Now hop on; let's get to the top of this thing. Just hold my battleaxe."

With a shrug, she stowed her things in her bag, and took Chel's large axe. It was heavy, but Ava's grip on it was solid, and she managed to keep it far enough away from the larger girl that it wouldn't accidentally strike her. Once Ava was securely on Chel's back, Chel began scaling the mountain with considerable ease.

"Masonry, my friend," she quipped as she hiked, "not all of District 2's industries are weapons and peacekeepers, you know. I told you I knew my rocks."

30 minutes later, they were making good progress and were near the top. The tree line had since faded below them. The only thing that stopped them was a cannon that had gone off.

"I wonder who that was," Ava muttered softly.

"We'll find out tonight, I'm sure." Chel would have shrugged if Ava was not on her shoulders. "now hold on tight—we're almost there."  
When they reached the peak of the mountain, the first thing they wanted to do was see what was on the other side. All they saw was more mountains.

"How big IS this arena?" Ava exclaimed, but Chel did not reply. Her hand was out.

"Don't get too close!" she warned. "Come here. Hold out your hand like this."  
Ava did as she was told, and felt a sort of tingly vibration. She also had to blink a few times, for she swore that her vision just shuddered.

"Forcefield," Chel told the smaller girl, "we're at the edge of the arena. I bet these mountains form a natural barrier around the area they want to keep us in. Look around you."  
Ava turned back to the view behind them, and her mouth dropped. The view was absolutely magnificent, but sure enough, the mountains seemed to form a large ring, which were surely the bounds of the arena. There was another smaller ring of mountains towards the middle.

"It's like a target." Chel explained, realizing this herself, "there's a ring of mountains, then a valley, then another ring of mountains, then a valley, and the cornucopia plateau is the bullseye."

"So where should we go?" Ava looked confused.

"I do think that now that we know the layout of the arena more or less, that we should get away from the outskirts. The Capitol likes to pick on them first if they don't get enough action."  
"But someone just died;" Ava reminded her, "isn't that enough action for a bit?" she knew that the Capitol did not want all of the tributes to die in the first week.

"It's enough for now, but do you remember how long it took us just to get here? About 28 hours ago we were at the cornucopia fighting for our lives."

"Well then," Ava looked up at the taller girl, "I want to find a bow."

To her surprise, Chel smiled. "I told you that was why I liked you." She smiled, glancing eastward. "You know what you want, and you know how to get it. Eastward we go. Hopefully we can pick it off of a tribute or something… maybe get it sponsored for you."

So began their trek back down the mountain.


	19. Chapter 19: A Game of Survival

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _The arena is a large place, and so unless certain parts of it get cut off or something, it might be difficult for tributes to find each other. On the other hand, it does give plenty of time for existing alliances to bond closer and form strategies on how to take the other tributes out. Strategy and survival are just as important as skill and strength.  
Also... I've completed the main storyline, and so chapters are now going to be posted every 2 days, give or take.  
_

**CHAPTER 19: A Game of Survival**

It was true what Chel said—climbing down a mountain was much trickier than climbing up. Still, the two tributes were careful around the rocks, and Ava's tiny size and her bare feet actually worked to her advantage, with her thick soles clinging better to some of the granite surfaces than one might expect.

"So Ava, this time I've got one for you," Chel quipped as they walked.

"Shoot," Ava shrugged, "y'know—since we're totally trying to kill each other."  
"How fast are your reflexes?"

"I dunno. Why do you ask?"

"Because I want you to DUCK," Chel warned before instantly swinging her fist towards Ava's face. Ava's reflexes turned out to be rather swift, for she crouched just in time.

"What was that for?" she looked bedazzled as she stood back up.

"A hunch," Chel leaned close to Ava's ear, "I think someone is following us, and so I wanted to know if I could duck in case I needed to throw a weapon over your head to kill them." her voice was a whisper.

Ava did not reply verbally, but nodded to indicate that she had heard Chel's warning.

By the time they reached the valley, it was just past noon. They were stopped by the river that they had jumped into after that first day, but they used it to fill their water bottles up, for it was surprisingly clean. The Capitol was not known for using parasites in the 'games, as those were very slow and unentertaining deaths; and the Capitol did like their show. However, more surprising than that was…

"My bow!" Ava exclaimed, finding it, her quiver, and the arrows strewn around a little bit of the bank, but everything was otherwise intact. She gathered it up, her mood improving right away. "I guess I forgot I had it after I washed up on this shore yesterday." She chuckled.

"Well, that solves one problem," Chel nodded, "but now we have another one." she glanced at the river, which clearly had no crossing and was quite wide.

"How are we going to get across?" Ava asked, "we don't want to get whisked downstream again do we?" the river was at least 300 feet wide where they were, though did not look as fast as it had when it had been below the cliffs.

"Get your things, hold onto my battleaxe, and get on my back." Chel told her,

"What is it with you and carrying me?" Ava shook her head as she put her things all in her pack.

"You're tiny and easy to carry;" Chel laughed, "but also, methinks you're unable to swim. Am I correct in this assumption?"

Ava looked down at her bare toes and nodded almost shamefully.

"Well, don't worry—not very many people outside of '4 can swim. Just get on my back. You'll know the right time to hold your breath."  
After Ava had herself wrapped around Chel's shoulders, the large black girl jumped off of a rock and into the river, plunging under before resurfacing. The flow was fairly slow here, but Chel swam at an angle so the girls wouldn't get pulled downstream. The career girl used powerful strokes, and within about 10 minutes, they were on the other side of the river. Chel crawled out on the opposite bank, lying on the ground for a moment to catch her breath.

"Are you okay?" Ava expressed concern for her friend, who had just selflessly carried her across while swimming partially against a river current.

"For someone who just carried a battleaxe, a bag of supplies, another tribute, HER bag of supplies, and her bow and arrows all across a 300-foot-wide river, I'm doing great." Chel quipped. Nothing seemed to be able to drag this larger girl down. "Just let me catch my breath real quick."

Ava sat down, once again dripping wet just as Chel was, and watched the larger girl lay there on the banks of the river, taking deep but calm breaths. Ava knelt down, lifting Chel's head and setting it in her lap, where she began to trace patterns into the larger girl's forehead. Chel giggled.

"What are you doing?" her brown eyes stretched to try and look at Ava.

"I dunno," the smaller girl shrugged, "just relax as long as you need. I think with this kind of silence, we'd be able to hear tributes coming. We're out in the open, so it's not like they can sneak up on us."

The sounds of birds chirping, Mockingjays singing, and the gentle river flowing along made the scenario feel rather serene, and Ava almost let herself get lost in the moment, before she remembered that she was in an arena and supposed to be fighting to the death.

Chel seemed in much less of a hurry now that she knew Ava had a bow, and so she rested there for a while. Ava sat down next to her, gazing at the large, powerful girl who for some reason had become her ally. Even 2 days in, all of it still felt so surreal to her. It was hard for her to wrap her mind around the fact that her brother was dead and gone, and she would never even see his body again, and that here she was, under the protective wings of the single most powerful tribute in the games. Two children had lost their lives because of her, and she had even received a sponsor gift already. It was weird to think that not even two weeks ago she was back at home in District 12 just living her life with her mother and brother, unsuspecting of the fate that would befall them.

She glanced back at Chel, who had fallen asleep. She still did not understand this girl's motives yet, and the story about the bet did seem pretty flimsy, but if she was doomed to die at Chel's hands, then so be it. She would worry about it when the time came.

Ava dozed off sometime during this incident, and found herself being nudged by Chel, who was back on her feet. "You awake there, kiddo?"

"Yeah… what's up?" Ava yawned, stretching to get the kinks out of her.

"Let's get moving again. It's almost nightfall, and I don't think I want to get lost in the forest by then." Chel replied, picking up her bag and her battleaxe, offering her other hand to help Ava up.

The two girls continued their trek up the valley through the forest, as clouds began to move in.

"Another rainstorm, uh;" Chel shook her head. "Well, we best find some shelter then."

"There are always the trees," Ava shrugged. Chel grinned.

"Ava, you're a genius. Axes have more uses than killing people, after all."  
Ava was about to ask what Chel meant, but the girl had already gotten to work, chopping down some of the trees with the intent of building some form of shelter. Ava stood around, mostly wondering what she could so. She definitely didn't have Chel's swinging arm, or the know-how of building a sturdy shelter. She turned to the larger girl to express these concerns. She wanted to help.

"You said you were good with that bow of yours, right?" Chel smiled, "see if you can find us anything to eat. I'm sure this forest is crawling with critters."  
Ava nodded and took the advice to heart. Sure enough, it was, and after a mildly successful hunt (a rabbit and a few birds) Ava returned to find a rather well-constructed little piece of woodwork, complete with a canopy and a firepit with a blazing fire. Chel's presence managed to dismiss any notions Ava might have had about building a fire being a bad idea. She figured that the career girl was more than capable of fending off anyone trying to attack them in the night.

"Not a bad haul," Chel nodded approvingly, "did you already clean 'em?"

Ava nodded. There was more to hunting than simply shooting a target, after all. Besides… if there was anything out there that was not a tribute, it would be good not to let the smell of blood attract them.

"Well, this sure beats eating bark." The black girl quipped, "That was about what we would have had to resort to otherwise."

Ava chuckled, and by the time they had gotten to eating, the sky was dark, and the anthem began to play, thus concluding night 2. The rain was lightly coming down, but the cloudy skies were clear enough to look up and see who the cannon earlier that day had belonged to.

_Lombardi Mason, District 7…_

"He got a decent score, didn't he?" Ava looked up at Chel as they retreated back to their shelter for the night to finish their dinner.

"He got an 8," Chel shrugged, "most of the low-scoring tributes have already been killed except the really cute one sitting next to me. On the other hand, I think she could have scored much higher if she hadn't held her skills back."  
"I performed right-handed," she nodded, "just as you told me to."

"I know that, you know that, and the gamemakers know that." Chel smirked, "but do you think Chaco, Lazuli, Iris, Zaffre, Samuel, and Alice know that? "  
"Are you saying we're going to go after them?"  
"Eventually of course;" Chel nodded, "let's get some sleep though. Tomorrow, we're going hunting."


	20. Chapter 20: The Wiles of the River

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**_ In terms of number of chapters, we're about halfway done with the series (there's a victory tour after the games that I intend to cover). This is a chapter in which Chel and Ava discover a bit more about the arena they're trapped in, and what's going on behind the scenes. There's more to the Hunger Games than just fighting, after all..._

**CHAPTER 20: The Wiles of the River**

It was still lightly drizzling when Ava woke up the next morning. She and Chel had not been harmed during the night, and neither had their little camp. Chel was still soundly asleep beside her, and Ava decided to let her rest. Chel did most of the physical work anyways and so she was probably exhausted.

Ava stepped outside of their little shelter, her bare feet creating soft depressions in the damp ground. She looked up at the grey skies, which reflected her mood fairly well at the moment—a little gloomy, but still bright enough to have hope for her survival.

She started a little fire with Chel's matches and fire starters, and had a decent little blaze going on by the time Chel stirred.

"Top of the morning," Ava chuckled. "I thought you were dead." This was just a playful jab at the older girl's sleeping in.

"Tell you what," Chel instantly retorted, rubbing her eyes, "you carry me across a river and up a mountain, and I'll wake up early for you."  
"But you're literally twice my size." Ava exclaimed.

"I don't give a damn." Chel laughed, "See my point, kid?"

Ava chuckled as Chel ruffled her hair, and they cleaned up the rest of their breakfast with ease.

"So we're about halfway up the mountain," Chel began once they had washed it down with some water. "I think this makes a decent vantage point. We can sink back into the river valley if we need water, and we can climb the rest of the mountain if we need to get towards the center of the arena."  
"Speaking of water…" Ava turned her bottle upside-down, where only a few drips emerged.

"Looks like we have our work cut out for us then," Chel chuckled, "Let's go down to the river."

They left a few of their things behind, figuring that they would simply be able to return to their camp without incident. They descended the mountain, however, and found themselves in for a surprise.

"Is it just me," Ava stepped towards the flowing river, "or is this river deeper than it was yesterday?"

Chel glanced up and down the banks before nodding. "It's gotten deeper," she agreed, "it must be from the rain last night—but this is like at least a foot higher than yesterday."

"3 days in and we're already around a flooding river," Ava shook her head, "any chance we can get to the other side?"  
"I wouldn't try it, even if you did swim on your own," Chel quipped, "I think they want us to stay away from the edges of the arena. Still, let's get some water while we're here; it still seems fairly clean."

The two girls drank their fill and refilled their bottles before trekking back to the camp. Nothing had changed since they had left, and so for the time being, it was quiet.

The rest of the day went like this as well, with a surprising zero cannons going off that day. Thus, no faces appeared in the cloudy sky that night after the anthem played, and soon day 4 had begun. Hiking back down to the river again, they discovered it had risen another foot or so again.

"These rainstorms seem to be like warnings of some sort," Chel warned, planting a large branch into the ground, "That river is rising fairly quick each night after the sun goes down."  
"But we're hundreds of feet up the mountain," Ava glanced back up the rocky slopes to the trees where their little encampment was safely nestled. They had not seen any of the other tributes at all since their encounter with Chaco and Iris on the first day (and technically Lombardi's face in the sky on the 2nd day). "Do you really think it'll reach us up there?"  
"It very well could," Chel shook her head, "it's rising faster than it did the previous day…"

"Well if they're trying to flush us out, it would still take days before it reached us up here." Ava shrugged. "But that makes me wonder where the others are."

"I think I might try waiting another day if you don't mind," Chel commented, "I think there's a pattern to how much the river rises every day; unless you wanted to go out and fight them tonight?"  
"I guess we are kind of putting off the inevitable," Ava began, "but what's one more day?" she gave Chel a playful chuckle, and Ava's smile was always enough to melt Chel where she stood, almost like a fond older sister witnessing a child or baby sibling grinning or laughing. Chel really did feel like an older sister to Ava now, especially since even though she had not seen it, the reality of Wes' death had sunk in rather quickly.

The two tributes spent the rest of the evening hunting and building up their shelter, but otherwise the day and the night was eventless. Maybe some of the other tributes had fought a mutt or something to keep the Capitol entertained, because nothing happened to them all the way to when the sun went down and the rain began to fall. The anthem played shortly before the rain began, but even then there had not been a single cannon the whole day, and thus no tributes' faces appeared in the sky. Day 4 had ended, and there were still 14 tributes left.

The next morning, Ava woke to find no sign of Chel except her boots. This confused her, but at the same time, Chel usually slept in. She thought about it for a while, but then realized that the last couple of days, Chel had been working hard to get them safe, or had carried Ava across mountains or rivers.

"Chel?" she called out, hoping to find the girl. She decided to go to the river to continue their ritual of filling up their bottles in the morning, and there she found a barefooted Chel with her pants rolled past her knees, standing in the water.

"What are you doing?" she tilted her head curiously.

"I'm just getting my feet wet," the larger girl admitted, "but I was right about the river. Look how huge it is now!" she pointed out in front of them, and it was clearly very large and very deep now, with the tops of some trees below them sticking out of the water. It really was rising every night, with each night bringing in more water than the last. On the plus side, the river was flowing very slowly right now.

"Wait!" Ava froze, as she dipped her own bare feet into the water. "If the water is rising…"  
"Yeah, it'll get to our camp sooner or later," Chel finished the sentence for her.

"No, but if the arena is mountain range then a valley and then a mountain range and then another valley…" Ava's eyes widened, "then it's going to flood into the inner valley soon!"  
"Well, I wouldn't say soon," Chel agreed, "but you're right. We need to take the high ground in case that happens. Besides, if we don't move, the Capitol might attack us unless there's someone farther away than us."

"Let's fill our bottles and get back then;" Ava shook her head, "I'm worried about this water."

"Any suggestions on where to go;" Chel offered

"let's walk near the peaks of the central mountain range," Ava suggested, "and we need to keep the high ground."

"Good thinking;" Chel had been thinking the same thing, but had wanted to see if Ava would be clever to catch on. Her own mentor, Clove, spoke about what she knew of the Head Gamemaker, who had been in operation of the Hunger Games since year 80. Thus, Chel knew that this Gamemaker was a woman who appreciated clever tributes, and was much less likely to try to attack them if they showed her and Panem their cunning or intelligence.

They returned and packed up their camp, but did not worry much about the evidence. If someone found them and wished to follow them, they would be ready. Ava had her knives and her trusty bow, while Chel had her reliable battleaxe, and they were well-fed (at least for Hunger Games tributes) and had proven themselves competent. Chel had insisted that if Ava had shown her skills off left-handed, that she would have easily managed at least a 9; maybe an 11 or 12 even.

"This arena is so damn huge!" Ava complained, and Chel gave a soft sigh.  
"You need me to carry you again, kid?" she offered.

"No, I'm fine," Ava said truthfully, "just that how are we ever going to find tributes this way?"

"We keep wandering, I guess." Chel shrugged, "Hopefully the Gamemakers don't decide to flood the 2nd valley. Cutting us all off to the cornucopia plateau would just give them another bloodbath, and the 'games wouldn't last even a week, assuming half the tributes didn't drown in the valley."

"Maybe they'll flood it to the top and not have it break till much later?" she suggested. Chel laughed.

"Kid, you're awfully clever for someone without any training at the academies." She quipped, "Where did you learn these things?"  
"If there's one thing the outer districts specialize in," Ava smiled somewhat proudly, "it's survival. But, a really tall girl from District 2 also taught me some combat skills I want to try—let's find some tributes."


	21. Chapter 21: Hunter and Career

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _As promised, chapter 21 is where things start heating up. There are two deaths in this chapter, and the next few chapters also have deaths throughout them. Naturally, there's also bit of discussion between Chel and Ava, because even though this is a death match, the tributes are still human. They have their own thoughts and minds and hopes and dreams. Too many people (particularly in the Capitol) are too swift to forget that._  
_Also... coming up with a name for this chapter was notoriously difficult._

**CHAPTER 21: Hunter and Career**

The afternoon of Day 5 continued much the same way Day 4 had, except that Chel and Ava reached the summits of the inner ring of mountains. They could see the golden cornucopia in the far distance, and the slight movement of activity in the trees around them. Perhaps that was just the wind though rather than another tribute or two.

They began to descend the mountain, moving through the forest, they came across a very elaborate little wooden shelter very akin to theirs in appearance a few yards away.  
"Do you want to go investigate it," Chel offered, "and I'll keep watch, or should we swap roles? I just thought you'd be better at stealth because you're so tiny and I'm this gigantic girl with two left feet."  
"Chel, if you were clumsy, you'd never volunteer to carry me around places." Ava chuckled.

"Fine; you got me. But, my question still stands."

"Alright—I'll go check it out. Chop me down a branch."  
With a deft swing, Chel chucked a throwing axe at one of the trees, knocking a dead branch down which she handed to Ava. "Use this to poke around for any traps."

After a bit of poking, Ava found nothing, but other than the shelter itself, there was also nothing useful here either. She motioned for Chel to come over, which the larger girl did.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" she glanced towards the slope, and then back at the shelter.

"We stay here?" Ava tilted her head, her tone skeptical as if she doubted the validity of this idea.

"No; we knock this down to make some noise. We're going to attract a tribute."

They did just that, with Chel and Ava successfully dismantling the shelter and throwing the logs down the slope, where they rolled and smashed things. Sure enough, there was rustling a few moments later, and it was growing closer. Ava drew out some knives, while Chel pulled out her throwing axes again.

The tribute in question bowled right over Ava, and it was revealed to be Magnolia. Ava sprang back up and turned to attack the girl, who looked surprised and tense to see two new tributes. Still, it did not stop her from pulling out a pair of axes of her own and engaging combat with them, although she occasionally glanced down the mountain. Shel swung her axe mightily to try and strike the girl, but before she could, the girl coughed up blood and fell backwards, revealing a knife in her neck. A cannon fired, and Ava was fairly certain it was Magnolia.

"Ironic…" she sighed, "the girl got an 11… who threw that knife though…"  
She had hardly said this when a boy came belting through the trees into the clearing, looking equally as shocked as Magnolia. Apparently he and the number 8 on his shoulders indicated that this was Roy O'Donnell. Ava did not even give him a chance to express his position or state his status. With her arrow nocked again, she let it fly, sending it through the boy's throat, dropping him. A second cannon boomed shortly after Magnolia's, to signal Roy's death.

"Well damn," Chel shook her head, cracking an odd smile, "those were the two highest-scoring non-career tributes, and we just took 'em out like that. Are you sure you're not secretly a career?"  
Ava shook her head. "I just did what I had to. I think they got in a fight or something beforehand—look at Roy's arm, and Magnolia's chest." She motioned towards the two dead tributes as she went to retrieve her arrow. Other than the knife in Magnolia's neck and the arrow in Roy's, they seemed to both have sustained a few injuries from something or someone else before they had encountered Chel and Ava. It did not bother the girls though; weakened tributes were easier to off.

"I always thought that death would be much harder to cope with," Ava shrugged, "but here I am now in my 5th day of the Hunger Games. It's been 4 days since my brother was killed, and I don't really feel a thing. Should I, Chel? Should I feel sadness or guilt?"  
"I'm not the one to answer that," she shrugged, "I was specifically trained not to, just like all of my peers. There's a reason that District 2 is so skilled at killing other kids without remorse. I'm the same way, if you recall."  
"Does that mean I am too? You did call me a career earlier."  
"You've got the makings of one, and you're definjitely ruthless and efficient. That boy might have tried to ally with us if you had given him a chance to speak."  
"But that would just be another friend to kill in the end, right? Or maybe he would have died earlier…" she sighed, thinking back to Wes again, and all the plans they had had to circumvent having to kill each other. Well, the good news was that they did not have to kill each other (though she did wish to learn if it was actually Iris who had killed him), but he had died in the opening minutes of the first day, which in her eyes was fairly shameful, but that also meant that they did not get to say a proper goodbye. Ava had always imagined that she and Wes would be there together in their final moments, with one sibling holding the other in his or her arms as they said their goodbyes. She had not received that privilege. Someone had ended Wesley's life before he had even been able to see much of the arena.

"As Clove once told me," Chel put a hand on Ava's shoulder, "The Hunger Games are what turns a boy into a man or a girl into a woman. Kids who manage to make it out of these arenas tend to be more seasoned, mature, and experienced than most individuals in Panem. Besides, there are only 90 other people in all of our history who are able to relate to the things you have done. The rest are dead, and even some of the victors have gone the way of the world, so that number is even smaller."

Ava turned back to lean against Chel in a soft embrace, whimpering slightly.

"What's wrong, kiddo?" she hoisted Ava into her arms, since the height difference between the two tributes was fairly staggering, and a girl with Chel's strength could easily lift the much smaller Ava, who was also the tiniest tribute of the 91st Annual Hunger Games.

"Just a realization I had," she murmured softly, leaning against Chel's shoulder.

"I'm listening," she rubbed the smaller girl's back.

"Well, I also realized just now that you are very motherly," she chuckled, before returning to her serious tone, "but also that everyone in here—even the likes of Chaco and Iris—they're all just innocent children forced into these games, some with different mindsets than others."  
"That they are," Chel nodded, "but that isn't going to change anything. 23 must die before the 'games are over. Do you wish to continue?"  
"I guess this is why we need to be ruthless," Ava shrugged, looking at Chel in the eyes. "Chel; thank you. I know it sounds stupid, but thanks for listening to me ramble."  
"No problem, Aveline," Chel smiled, placing the tiny girl back on her feet. "let's get moving though so the hovercrafts can pick up the bodies—besides, we need to make camp soon."  
They had about 2 hours of daylight left, and as they walked away from the bodies, a hovercraft came to pick up Magnolia's body, and then Roy's.

"The good news," Chel smiled as they walked, "is that we are now officially halfway through the Hunger Games—only 12 more tributes to go…"

Ava thought about this for a moment: _"Both from '1; both from '2; both from '3; the girl from '4; the girl from '5; the boy from '6; both from '11, and the girl from '12—me."_

"You think we'll make it?" she looked up at the massive girl as they walked back up the mountain.

"I'm Chel Colorado. Of course we'll make it," Chel laughed, "but let's get back to the top and make camp on the peak. That way we can check the river tomorrow after the nightly flooding."  
Sure enough, the clouds were beginning to congregate as the sun began to set, but the girls reached the plateau-like surface of the peaks before nightfall. Chel put her axes to good use building another quick shelter, while Ava's bow became the tool with which she hunted. Her success was limited, but they still had good amounts of water left.

"5 days down… 12 tributes to go…" Chel stretched out once their little shelter and camp was all set up. The anthem played, and then the dead tributes' faces showed up.

_Magnolia Chang, District 7…_

_Roy O'Donnell, District 8…_

"Any guesses on when it'll end?" Ava asked;

"A week or two," Chel suggested, "the Gamemakers like to let the worn-out tributes rest if they are strong or smart, and so if nothing happens in the arena for 2 or 3 days… then we worry."

"That's far off though, isn't it…"  
"Yup; they might give us a day or two, or maybe one of the other kids will run into something. I don't know, obviously."  
"Fair enough," Ava agreed, "so do we wait now?"  
"Aye," Chel nodded, getting comfortable for the night, "now we wait."


End file.
